Everything Has Changed
by A Raven of Emotions
Summary: AU Kames, at the beginning JamesxOC. Widower!James, new flame!Kendall. Summary: James Diamond is a nineteen year old college student. He's struggling to balance work and school; he is also still mourning the death of his late husband. Love is not something he wants to play with ever again, but what happens when he begins to feel attachment towards transfer student Kendall Knight?
1. Wish You were Here

"_Loving you...I can't say those words myself, I don't think I'll be able to ever but I do know that you have made me feel human. You have made feel me human for the first time in my life."_

"_You are such an idiot sometimes, James."_

"_Please don't risk your life, ever again! You do that, I will go mad!"_

"_I'm not the type to say sorry. I'm not the type to __**feel**__. I am the type that does like to be right though, and I know I'm right to place my trust in you."_

"_Everything I said in my vows, all those pointless gasps of breath...I don't mind taking a breath between words if they are words for you."_

James wiped at the tears in his wide, child-like hazel-green eyes. The hazel-green had paled, instead overtaken by a smoldering golden-red. The brunet ran a hand through his short, messy hair and got out of bed. He shuffled through the closet for a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, a black hoodie and a pair of boots.

He could feel the tears run down his cheek again, hotter and harder this time around, but ignored them to the best of his ability as he went to the bathroom and turned on the light. The lone mirror soon became foggy as steam filled the room, his pajamas all bunched up on the small, dark blue carpet as he disappeared behind the glass door and let the warm water run down his smooth, caramel-colored skin.

James allowed himself to break down, hidden away in the steam. The servants wouldn't be able to hear his tears, his gasps for breath, and silent prayers to God while he was in the hot, sterile-smelling clouds of vapors.

"_Must you take so long to get ready in the morning? I mean why bother, wasting time on 'beauty' products when you're already the epitome of beauty? Honestly James, must you?"_

"_You're the only person who can make tea right, that I know of of course. But then again I don't feel like drinking tea made by someone other than you."_

"_James...I like this. Us close, don't tell anyone I'm a cuddler though or I'll never hear the end of it."_

"_Hahaha, dare I say it? You look cute with my scarf on...yes, very adorable."_

Once he had dried off and got dressed, he went for the tea set resting on the coffee table Erin had gotten for their bedroom. He picked up one of the cups, small and painted black.

Even though all the cups, a set of five, were all small and painted black Erin chose this one always. James always pondered how he knew that was "his" cup, as everyone in the house has dubbed it. He had questioned his husband about it several times before, and all he's ever gotten as an answer was a smile and wink.

And these words: "_Darling don't fret, this cup will never replace you"_.

'And I can't replace you, honey...' The brunet thought as he bit his lower lip, placing the pot and cups on a long, silver tray before packing them away into the china cabinet. He grabbed his hoodie, laying on the nicely made bed, and pulled it on, making sure his shirt was tucked in.

Even though it wasn't a dress shirt or anything close to that nature, James remembered Erin always told him to tuck his shirt in.

"_Darling, tuck your shirt in. I know you don't like to show off, but I do and I wish to do so with you at the event this evening. You are beautiful, like a precious stone and I like to show off what I adore."_

James ran a finger over the simple, gold wedding band on his left hand ring finger. He closed his eyes again, having cleaned up his gloomy demeanor, and took a deep breath; he moved that very hand, his left hand, to rest over his chest. His heart, only half whole and bleeding even with the two years that have passed was still crying.

Crying, wishing that this was all just a nightmare. A nightmare he can wake up from; if he woke up, then Erin would be here again…

Erin.

The sunlight outside poured into the room, striking a picture frame on James's bedside table. The frame was small and checkered black-and-white, the glass cleaned so often it shined like a church window. It was the only picture James had on his bedside table, the only picture that has never been moved from its spot there.

'Erin.'

James reached the bedside table in three, quick strides, picking it up with both hands and tracing the faces behind the glass.

He, at eighteen at his wedding. His hair was a bit longer in this picture, face youthful and beautiful as ever but eyes a bright hazel-green. Nothing like the smoldering golden-red they have taken to as of late. His white suit, custom made and simple yet casual, hair carefully brushed back, hands resting on his late husband's chest.

Erin, Erin Masters.

Tall, dark and handsome. Pale, soft skin that went well with his short dark brown, almost black, hair. It was usually straight but in this picture it was curly, and James loved it. Erin looked good with straight hair, but the soft curls really brought out his high, well chiseled cheekbones. His eyes, a starling blue-green, were brighter than usual. His suit, coal black with a blue pocket handkerchief, hugged his thin, tall frame well. He had his right cheek pressed to the top of James's head, his arms around his younger lover's waist.

Their weddings rings stole the moment in this picture; small, simple bands of gold that represented everything for them: love, trust, friendship, support, admiration.

And James wore his ring to this very day. He hasn't taken it off ever since they got married, and hasn't had the thought ever since Erin passed away.

His mom Brooke was there, along with a few close others Erin knew. It had been a simple ceremony, small but still beautiful and had been the happiest, most wonderful day in the young couple's time together. So much to think about, their future uncertain yet bright. Erin going on as one of the most well-known authors of this century, James thinking about going to college to study the arts.

So many plans, so many dreams together.

It didn't matter to James if he was eighteen and Erin had been thirty-five when they had gotten married. It didn't matter to him that they were so different, from different lives and worlds. They had planned to live whatever time they had left together, happy and driven.

And then life just had to take Erin away…

'I love you, and I...I-I wish you were here with me.' The brunet placed the photo face down on the table, grabbing his school bag hanging off his desk chair before leaving the room.

He couldn't afford to delay the day any longer; he had to get to school.

Yet that thought of hearing his professors drone on, dealing with simple-minded teenagers and overall horrible higher education system did not make the pang he felt at the spaces between his fingers hurt any less.

* * *

><p>Here's the first chapter of a new story! It will be pretty...interesting, but please give it a try and tell me what you think! It's AU, will have Kames but obviously before Kendall James had someone in his life! Again, give it a try and tell me what you think! <strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush! All I own is the plot and the OC that is the mysterious Erin Masters.<strong>


	2. Between the Raindrops

Noise can be a great distraction.

The sounds of the cars passing by. The chatter of people, from elderly reading the newspapers to themselves to children screaming and yelling. The hustle and bustle of shoes against pavement, smoke clouds quietly evaporating, the dinging of a store bell opening and closing.

So much going on in one setting, one would most likely lose their train of thought.

James use to do that, and use to do that naturally. He was a dreamer, a seeker and hunter; he was an explorer and the world seas untouched, virgin and mysterious. Taking in the colors, the textures, sounds around him was what he use to do best.

But ever since that day two years ago…

The brunet was staring straight ahead, hands tight on the strap of his school bag. His glasses were on, thick-rimmed and plastic. A coal black on the outside but on the inside a dark purple that went to a light pink before dying down to a navy blue. Seemed a little unorthodox, to have designs on your glasses that only the person wearing them would notice; James liked it though, the out-of-the-box approach given to these.

Erin use to say his husband was a rainbow of purples, blues, and pinks. Bright, energetic, a person that inspired life in everyone they came across.

"_You have been the one good thing to ever happen to me, the __**one**_ _good thing. You think I would risk you, oh please."_

'The one good thing.' James repeated those very same words in his head, though he instantly regretted it. A sharp, flooding pain began to engulf his torso; the pain was so sudden, so raw that he gasped in reaction. He moved one hand to grip the front of his hoodie, stopping in the middle of his stroll and closing his eyes.

No doubt he was getting strange or concerned stares from the people passing him by, but they would not make his pain go away.

People say grief is something that comes and goes; if you stay trapped in grief, well then you're pretty much screwed.

James has been able to handle school, work, maintaining a house pretty well though. He's always paid the bills on time, kept the kitchen stocked and fresh, paid the staff more than what other bosses did and did all he could to make sure his 4.0 GPA didn't drop. He's done so much, taken on so much responsibility for someone still so young and has kept his head clear.

But going to bed alone every night since then; not seeing a tiny, warm smile in the morning. No soft whispering against his chest as he read, no heat of another taller, hard body against his head. No head of curly, dark hair tickling his nose, a soft British accent tickling his ears at night before bed, or thin, pale hands caressing his under the table at breakfast.

So much absence, so much...emptiness.

**Emptiness**.

All this comfort, experience and serenity and no chance to share it with **him**. How could James possibly see a way out of this grief, out of this **depression** if what made him happy, made him feel **alive** was gone?

Erin, a cold, calculating, difficult-to-reach bastard. Erin, the man that knew how to think but not feel. Erin, the man that started out as James's tutor and ended up becoming his husband, the brunet's other half. Missing half; together they were whole, **had been** whole.

'Damn, damn, damn!' The tears were starting up again.

James couldn't feel his legs. He slumped down to a nearby bench before he would collapse, one hand flying to hide the waterworks breaking the dam while the other clamped over his mouth.

He couldn't fall apart here, in public. Very few people knew that James had married Erin, and that was hard to manage in a small town like Sherwood. The two had valued their privacy; they put up masks around others, Erin the mask of a silent, uncaring yet famous author. James the mask of a sweet, friendly, out-going college student. Well that of James, the sweetness and friendliness and out-going personality wasn't fake in the slightest, that was who he was.

Erin has had to put up a mask most of his life. But with James, at least it fell to show the hurt, fragile and easily broken man he tried so very hard to hide.

'Erin, I miss you...' The brunet pulled his hood over his head and pulled his knees up to his chest, shoulders now shaking.

He wasn't worried about missing the bus to school. His first class wasn't to start until eleven; it was only ten minutes after eight.

He hated not being able to sleep in for a few more hours, but being in that house for too long would drive him insane. As much as he loved the staff, more like family to him now than anything else, they just weren't...**Erin**. They weren't his husband, his lover, his friend.

The first love he ever had, and the only person to have left such a mark on him.

When Erin died, a large part of James died along with him…

_**-Page Break-**_

"W-why did you have to go? Why didn't you t-t-tell me sooner, Erin? This is just too hard; two years have passed but it's not e-enough. The space in our bed, the silence that takes over the house when everyone is gone. I miss you throwing darts into the door, I miss you playing the piano. I miss how you use to snort when you laughed, I miss...**you**. I just miss you, Erin…

"Young man, are you alright?"

James swallowed hard and lifted his head, hoping he had wiped his face well beforehand.

"Y-yes, am I in your seat?" He asked the tall, pale woman with long dark red hair and deep, warm hazel-brown eyes.

She was fairly young, maybe around the same age Erin had been. She was thin, had a friendly air to her and seemed genuinely concerned for the brunet. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, with an apron over it all and her hair tied back in a messy bun. She must have worked at the supermarket's deli; they usually wore purple aprons over their clothes, the uniform in a way.

She smiled softly for the boy, placing a hand on his knee. "No dear, but I can tell you're upset about something. What's wrong, are you okay? You shouldn't be out in rain with so little on, dear; you might catch a cold."

Huh, James hadn't noticed the rain. He probably would have went on crying in the downpour, oblivious to it all due to his pain.

His pain.

James tried to compose himself, hoping his eyes weren't too red and puffy. "I-I'm fine ma'am, thank you.

He hoped she'd leave. He didn't feel strong enough to have communication with another human being.

'Human being, I'm taking a page from Erin's book.' He thought bitterly. The woman wasn't discouraged though, instead tipping her umbrella over so slightly so both were protected from the stinging, freezing wet.

"Dear, please call me Jen. And I can tell you're upset about something, you wouldn't be crying if something wasn't upsetting you. Listen I'm not going to make you tell me, but let me say this: are you missing someone?"

'H-how did she...?!' James's answer must have been clear on his expression, because her facial features only softened more.

"You lost someone you cared about very much, didn't you? A boyfriend or girlfriend, best friend?"

'Should I say something? It's not like I'll ever see her again, so...'

James swallowed hard, trying to maintain the eye contact. "My h-husband." He whispered back finally, her thin eyebrows shooting into her hairline.

"Husband? You seem young, like what eighteen? Eighteen and have been married already, wow that's something."

"I guess."

"So you lost your husband?" She said, tone of voice soothing as silk once more.

"Yes, I-I did. He died two years ago, car accident claimed his life. I was with him, but I…"

"You survived, but survivor's guilt. You survived, he didn't and...it's pretty hard to move past that isn't it? I can understand that, dear: my husband died while serving this country. He died when our son was five, didn't get to meet our little girl.

"I was eighteen when we got married, but I knew him since I was little. There was a bit of an age difference between us, but it n-never mattered much to me. Love has no gender or age, right? We got married on my eighteenth birthday, and sadly...we only got t-two years together.

"I'm sorry, dear. Really I am. I can't imagine losing someone like that; yes I have experienced loss myself, but I wasn't there to witness it all. I'm sorry, I'm s-"

"P-please, don't be. I don't need pity or sympathy, it doesn't make it any better." James cut the woman off a bit sharply. He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but the last thing he needed was to hear the same words everyone at Erin's funeral had given him.

Words can't bring him back.

"Dear, listen to me."

"Why should I?"

_**-Page Break-**_

"Listen to her." A ghostly figure dressed all in white was standing at James's left shoulder. He was tall, dark and handsome. Pale, soft skin that went well with his short dark brown, almost black, hair. Curly dark brown, almost black, hair. His eyes were a starling blue-green, bright and seeming to glow thanks to the golden-white light surrounding him.

He was unable to be seen by the woman and his young, still living lover though.

He reached out to touch his James's beautiful, tear-streaked face but it simply went through the warm, smooth caramel-colored skin.

Erin bit his lower lip (that he **can** do) and sighed, eyes turning cold.

"You need to understand that just because you lost someone, doesn't mean it's all over." The red-haired woman began to say, when James yet again (he has always been stubborn, impulsive) cut her off.

"Please, please j-just stop! You don't understand anything about me, about what me and my husband had! He was the only person I loved to this extent, and I dislike when others say 'It's okay! It's been two years, you've made it this far!'; like two years is enough to just disregard everything we had! Yes I was very young when I married him, yes he was older and more experienced but I wanted to do anything and everything **with him**! He was everything to me, ma'am, and with all due respect hearing you talk about my pain so lightly hurts! Please, if you wanted to comfort someone then good but you chose the wrong person! Now please excuse me, I've had enough!"

James squeezed his eyes shut as he grabbed his school bag and bolted from the bench, heading for his bus stop. The woman shouted at his back, pleading him to come back but the brunet ignored her.

Erin was quick to follow. He ran, he ran. He ran through every person that was walking in the opposite direction and those not. He fazed right through them, a shiver down their spines the only reaction he got from them.

"James!"

_**-Page Break-**_

"_I swear, you love playing with my hair." Erin said, his tone of voice amused as he looked up from the novel he was reading._

_James smiled down at the older man, carding his thin, warm fingers through soft, dark curls. "Yes, yes I do. You can always tell me when to stop, though?" He pointed out, the other snuggling more into his lap._

"_No, I like it. It makes me feel...like I'm home."_

James swore under his breath as he slumped down to a hard, cold seat in the bus, avoiding the other passengers.

He had his bag between his knees, hands buried in his front pocket while his head was ducked. His eyes were glossy, wet and an angry red; pools of hazel-green were lost in a spread of golden-red, agony and confusion clear in that spread.

The memories…

"_You really like that purple shirt I got you, don't you?" James asked as he looked up from the paper he was typing up._

_Sure enough, his husband was wearing the purple shirt he got him for Christmas. It was a dark shade of purple, perfect because it brought out Erin's skin and eyes. Long-sleeved and form-fitting, the older man's handsomeness seemed to bloom more in that shirt._

_Erin set down the plate of pasta and shrimp he had prepared for dinner in front of James, taking a forkful and holding it up to the brunet's mouth._

"_Yes, yes I do now eat."_

"_Why? I'm working." Erin rolled his starling blue-green eyes, smile playful though._

"_Because I'm wearing my favorite shirt, and I'd like to think maybe since I'm wearing my favorite shirt then you'd take a break to eat, love?"_

"_That...made no sense and you know it. You usually try to make sense, honey."_

"_Sorry, with you I lose all sense of logic."_

James pressed his lips to his wedding band again, taking a deep breath yet failing to calm down.

His voice…

"_Dear, I-I will always...be here for you."_

"_Erin...no, no, no. No, you can't give up now, please. E-Erin! Erin, ERIN!"_

'Oh God, why?!'

James wanted to jump out the window, scream until his lungs gave in, so many things but of course he couldn't. He couldn't lose control like he did with that red-haired lady; guilt filled him momentarily, but in his (weak) defense she shouldn't have approached him in the first place. She and her husband...he felt bad for her, really he did but they weren't him and Erin. The situations, they weren't the same.

Sometimes he felt that no one really understood his pain. Everyone expected him to just move on, that two years was enough. Yes a part of him deep down knew that he should try, try harder, to let it all go but something just kept him from doing so.

He felt that it would be...**wrong** to move on from Erin. That somehow, someway the British devil was still there, here with him.

Was it denial? Was he unable to accept Erin being gone still, to this very day?

Denial was the first stage of grief...was he still in denial?

'Am I?'

"_I say, this isn't as an unpleasant experience as I thought it would be." Erin mused, lips at James's right ear._

_The two were sharing their first dance as husbands, the song soft and __**their**_ _song. It was the song that just happened to be playing, every time, on the dates they had went to: the cafe, the park, library during their tutoring sessions, etc._

_James chuckled under his breath, head resting on the older, taller man's chest. "See, totally worth the lessons I gave you right?"_

_Even though he didn't get a response, he could feel the other smiling._

'Maybe I am...'

"_Come on Erin, it's eight already. Time to get up." James teased his sleepy-eyed lover, their bare chests touching as he stuck his head out from under the soft, cream-colored sheets._

_Said man groaned, one arm tight around the brunet's waist. His lips met James's nose, a light kiss to his hair before his starling blue-green eyes met sparkling hazel-green._

"_It's our honeymoon, love. We can stay in bed all day if we want; I'm in no rush." Erin said with a cheeky grin, getting a laugh from James._

"_Well, when you put it that way...!" Erin laughed this time around, their lips reuniting in a warm, soft embrace._

_They didn't leave bed until late in the afternoon. And even then, they were stuck to each other._

'The only person I shared a bed with, the person who took my virginity. Who I wanted to be my one and only...'

_**-Page Break-**_

"What are you thinking, love?" Erin wondered out loud, sad eyes watching as his dear brunet tried his best to calm down. He reached out towards him when the bus finally slowed to a halt, but again James passed through him.

Like the ghost he was.

Erin swallowed hard; tears would be streaming down his cheeks, that is if he could cry. He watched as James checked his stuff over for like the fifth time as the university (Sherwood Uni) came into view. James kept his head down as he headed for his first class, avoiding contact with the other teens socializing.

Erin followed him, keeping a distance between them though.

"If only I could touch you…"

'Erin, what I would do to have you near. Somehow, someway have you near...'

* * *

><p>Hello there! New chapter up, surprised!? Hahaha, I don't blame my beautiful readers if they are; college tends to take most of my writing time, papers and such! But I really hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! The next few chapters will follow more on James and Erin (as a ghost) and then hopefully I'll find the right update to introduce Kendall. Oh, in case my dear duckies are wondering, Erin I modeled after Benedict Cumberbatch (who plays Sherlock in BBC's Sherlock)! That way it makes it easier to imagine this pairing; just think Benedict in character as Erin Masters, James Maslow in character as James Diamond. Anyway, thank you very much for the positive feedback I got for the first chapter, I really appreciate it and see you all in the next one! Thank you again, I love you all! :D <strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush! All I own is the plot and the OC that is the mysterious Erin Masters! :D<strong>


	3. This is Life Without You

At school, James was great at masking his inner turmoil. He'd have his laptop up and running during break, a book and pencil in hand as he read and annotated everything that jumped before his eyes. He didn't really have friends at Sherwood Uni; a majority of those in his classes were either too stupid or boring, he didn't bother with people like that.

Either he was genuinely feeling this way or Erin's attitude had rubbed off on him, he didn't have a clue.

Plus he wasn't here to socialize. Even though he and Erin had saved quite a bit for his college education, James didn't want to touch that unless it was an emergency. He worked at the school bookstore, cafe and library. Most of the money that came in he used to cover the water, electric bills, etc., pay the staff and for food. He wanted to prove to himself that he could make it on his own, without having to dip into the savings his husband left behind.

He was always a doer. He liked handling things to the best of his ability; he only resorted to outside help when he felt there was no other option. He did get help from financial aid, since what he made wasn't enough to really secure all the expenses. Most of the money he got came from grants and academic scholarships; if he wanted those to keep coming in, then he had to work really, really hard.

And he was willing to sacrifice whatever space he had for a social life. He didn't care about gossip, going to parties or getting drunk; he wanted to make Erin proud. He wanted to make him proud, wherever he was and if he wanted to get far in life then he needed a higher education. A high school diploma can only get you so far.

"Hey James?" Said brunet bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he looked up to see who had interrupted his studying.

"Yes, what is it Annie?"

Annie was this slender blonde with slightly tanned skin and big, dark hazel-brown eyes. She was a sophomore like James but a Biology major, also a year younger. She's been chasing after the pretty boy since their freshman year; back when Erin taught here, he'd silently glower whenever she tried to flirt with **his** boyfriend.

Oh wait, did James forget to note that Erin use to be an English professor (**the** poetry professor, to be more specific) at Sherwood Uni?

Yeah, that was an interesting twist! A student dating a professor. Not so uncommon, but still a surprise in its own.

James bookmarked his place with his pencil, closing his book and shutting down his laptop and packing everything else away. "Nothing much, I was just wondering if...umm, you would like to go out sometime?"

The same question she's asked since they met in fencing last year, fall semester.

"Sorry Annie, I'm not interested." James replied flatly, remembering the coffee cup he still had in his other hand; it hadn't gone cold due to his negligence. He needed something in his system. Caffeine had been the only edible thing he found in the cafe, caffeine it is.

The perky blonde wasn't discouraged though, much to his chagrin. "But you don't have a girlfriend, James! You rarely do anything outside of school and I'm pretty, you and me would be perfect together! Why do you keep rejecting me?"

"Simple: I don't like you. One, just because I don't have a girlfriend does **not** mean I'm available. I'm demisexual; I don't go for people just for looks, much **less** someone I don't know well. I like to get close to someone before I even think they're sexually attractive. Two, you may be pretty but like I said I don't go **just** for looks. I think it's pretty vain of you to think we'd be 'perfect' just because of how we look individually. Third, I don't come to school to waste money and socialize-much like a majority here do-thinking of this all as just a good time. I came here to **learn**; if you don't know what that word means, I suggest getting a dictionary. Now, are we done here? All the perfume you're wearing is suffocating me."

James watched as Annie's once friendly face turned ugly with a sourness you'd only see in a witch. "What, you like boys better than girls? Like to take it like a bitch, Jamie?"

"You do realize you have shown me just how **ignorant** you are deep down, right? Demisexuality isn't limited to one gender; whoever I end up with though, be it a guy or girl, I will be with because I **love** them. Not for looks, for rep or other petty things but for **who** they are. A relationship doesn't revolve around sex you know, oh wait maybe you don't." James held back a smirk as the wavy-haired blonde turned red in the face and turned on her heels, stomping away down the hall. She did turn back though momentarily to flip him off, soft lips pulled back over her teeth in a scowl.

'Please, as if that's going to do anything.' The brunet thought with an eye-roll, setting his coffee cup down to get his laptop back out.

He was glad he finally took the step to put her in her place. Annie has been bugging him a lot more as of late, ever since Erin passed away. Of course nobody staff and student body-wise had known about James's relationship with the older man; whoever did know kept their lips sealed tight. Still, the thought of people finding out and tarnishing Erin's reputation made the brunet's blood run cold.

Erin may had been known as "Mister Cold and an Asshole", but he was no pervert. He didn't seduce James, coaxed or blackmailed him into his bed.

James had slept with him (after they were married, obviously) because he loved him. They had formed a strong, raw emotional attachment that James had thought only in dreams would come to him. He didn't fall for Erin over looks, even though the older man had been quite the looker. He fell in love with Erin **for** Erin.

And even with that speech he gave Annie, James was certain he'd never fall in love again. He told her that just to piss her off, to get her to leave him alone. Love someone again though, so passionately and unconditionally, was definitely out of the question.

There was no room in his heart for a replacement; James would rather be alone the rest of his life, if it meant having to move on from the best thing he's ever had. Demisexual he was, but traitor he wasn't.

He had no intention of betraying his late husband. Gone he was, but not from the brunet's mind.

Not gone from his mind, his soul and his heart.

"A love like ours, comes only once in a lifetime. I'll settle for shelves and shelves of books over someone else in my life, Erin. Only you, only you." James's lips moved but no sound left him. He couldn't risk saying that out loud here; you couldn't trust teenagers with anything nowadays.

That, and he had a paper to finish. Time to refocus.

_**-Page Break-**_

Lunch came around, yet James didn't eat.

Lunch came around, yet James didn't eat.

He didn't trust the food in the cafeteria. Even though he worked there, he was in charge over washing dishes and mopping the plastic floor instead of the menu. He'd pick a booth in the large, echoey space and just work, work, work. Much like sleeping, eating has fallen at the bottom of his To-Do list. He could live off a meal a day; he can work off four hours of sleep.

So far, this system hasn't disappointed him yet.

He took a quick sip of his drink (raspberry lemonade) before he turned to the next page of his religion textbook, also turning to a clean page in his notebook. Religion wasn't his favorite class; the professor was a Baptist pastor, meaning he could be a little biased when it came to the other practices. He wasn't that bad of an instructor, though sometimes his lectures put his students to sleep.

James hasn't fallen asleep in Mr. Banner's class yet, but he sympathized with those who did.

He was a devout Jew, but even he didn't know all the stories said to tell of God's work.

"If only he'd just give us quizzes instead of demanding pages of notes. I'd rather do that, gives me more time to get more stuff done." He mused with a sigh, checking his wristwatch. It read: 12:15 P.M. At least on Tuesdays he only had two classes. He could clock in for work as soon as he was done with statistics at 1.

He made sure he didn't overwhelm himself with too many credit hours. He needed balance between work and school; the bills don't pay themselves, plus he had to think of the staff at home.

So many responsibilities to attend to. Others would have probably crashed under all the pressure, the limited control over their lives. But not James, not James.

If he wanted to keep going, to keep living a decent life then he had to fight. Fight and fight and fight; he still had two years left, might as well get through them with a bang.

"Okay...done. Now let's get some of early American lit. out of the way. Ah Erin, I remember how you'd always complain about teaching poetry-even though it's your favorite. 'No one tries in my class, love. Everyone expects poetry to be easy, but it is not. It's an art; just like painting and sketching and dancing, there's always something deeper to be found in an author's choice of words. I wish you were in my class again. You were the only light in that cloud of a semester'. Well at least you taught me everything you knew about poetry, honey. Now I don't struggle with it as much."

James bit the inside of his cheek again, though this time to suppress sadness instead of anger.

'Don't break. Conceal, don't feel; just like Elsa. Ha, how Erin loved that movie...ugh, again don't break. You can't break, not here. Just a little bit longer, just a bit longer and then the day will be over and you can go home. Just a bit longer, just a bit longer.'

The still-mourning brunet bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. That was enough to get him to stop thinking about Erin and head to the bathroom to wash his mouth out.

Still, the taste of blood had somehow...**pleasured** him.

To him, it helped me feel the same pain Erin had felt before dying.

'Don't break, don't cry. Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show, at all.'

Oh, he was **so** looking forward to early American lit. now!

* * *

><p>Wow, I have to say I can't believe this story is getting so much attention! And it's only been two chapters! But again thank you everyone, THANK YOU! I know this chapter is short (today was a really busy day) but hopefully it gives you some insight into how James's time at school seems to be! He's all work and no play; losing Erin has really affected him. Still, there's still a chance all of that can change? I still don't know if to introduce Kendall in the next chapter or not, mind letting me know in a review? Again, thank you everyone for the support! I really appreciate it, it does my heart good to see my works make people happy! Thank you once more and I'll see you in the next magic act! :) <strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush! All I own is the plot and the OC that is the mysterious Erin Masters! :D<strong>


	4. My Immortal

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

Brooke Diamond wore a slightly tight smile as her son eyed her as he stepped inside, stripping off his hoodie and dropping his school bag down to the sofa. He ran a thin, caramel-colored hand through his hair, as if in attempt to fix it, and took a seat opposite of her. He drew his legs up against his chest, locking his fingers over his knees.

"Hello sweetie, I just wanted to check up on you." She said simply, casually. The brunet could read something more in his mother's deep, alluring eyes though. Before, their eyes use to match in color: a deep, lively hazel-green.

His eyes were cold now. Cold, dark and a smoldering golden-red.

They were not the eyes of her son, of her precious baby boy.

"Mom, I know you're lying." He responded softly, taking a deep breath. The pixie-haired woman's smile faltered, nose crinkling upwards.

She had been caught, and so easily too.

'Just like Erin. They've really rubbed off on each other...' She thought, torn between fondness and hurt.

When her son, her dear James, had come to her and told her that he had fallen in love with Erin Masters, her old childhood friend she had thought he had gone insane. Erin wasn't (hadn't been) a bad man but he was clearly complicated, broken behind a stone mask. To reach him was one thing, but to **be** with him was another animal entirely. She and him, they had been friends for years...but even she had been lost about him.

And that her son had done the impossible, break down the walls around Erin's heart and made him more **human** still puzzled her to this day.

Yes, she had played a risky game allowing them to date and marry. Yes if others knew they'd judge her, call her a bad mother for handing over her son, barely an adult, over to a man halfway through his thirties. Yes, many would think James only married Erin for benefits, when he already had a steady financial background to survive college.

At first she would have agreed with them. But that has changed, somewhat.

She still had a hard time adjusting to her son being a husband at eighteen, even after a few months after the wedding. She might not have approved of the affair, to this day she questioned her decisions, but seeing James like this was heartbreaking.

One thing mothers didn't want to see above all others: their children in pain.

And James was her only child…

"Honey...I'm worried about you." She went straight to the point, expression hardening. James avoided her gaze by playing with his car keys, eyes downcast.

"Why, Mom? I'm okay really, just a little stressed out thanks to school. Every new school year is like this."

"Honey, you **know** that's not what making you into a zombie!" Brooke didn't mean to raise her voice but dammit, god dammit she had to reach her son somehow!

This has been going on for far too long! Two years, two **years**! James needed help, needed help or he'll continue on this path of depression and self-destruction!

She lost her husband, over petty fights and her control-freak ways. All she had now was James, her son. If she lost him too...oh, she couldn't bare the thought!

'He needs to see he needs help! Jamie baby, please do this for me! You can't go on like this!'

"Mom, I'm not a zombie. And what are you talking about, what could possibly be stressing me out apart from work and school?" Well, at least he was meeting her eyes now.

Brooke got to her feet only to get on her knees in front of her son, clasping his shaking hands in hers. "Honey, **listen** to me. You need help: not eating enough, not sleeping well and working yourself to the bone, honey you're only hurting yourself. I know you haven't moved on yet, but if you just talked to a therapist or went to a support group-"

"What good would that do?" James asked sharply, eyebrows arrows over his cold eyes. She swallowed hard, his words cutting into her like a knife.

"What do you mean 'what good'?! James Dylan Diamond, Erin is **gone**! You're clinging to a ghost, someone who isn't here anymore! How would he feel, seeing you like this?! Wearing yourself thin, breaking down and shutting yourself away?! **Jamie**, none of this will bring him back..!"

"I know this, Mom! Dammit I know this, but it's my way to **cope**! It's my way to deal with the foul play life has handed me! I was happy, Mom, **happy**! Erin, he meant everything to me: a best friend, a teacher, a lover! So many things he's done for me, and that I couldn't do anything to save him…!"

Tears ran down the brunet's cheeks, biting his lower lip.

Brooke's heart cracked down the middle, her blonde-streaked brown hair tickling James's nose as she pulled him into her arms for a tight, warm embrace. She raked one hand through his own messy, sweet-smelling hair; the other cradled the small of his back.

"Honey, I know it hurts, I **know**. I know you miss him; I miss him, too. He was my best friend. Hard, cold, complicated but still a good person. We both miss him, and no one will be able to take his place...but honey, moving on is part of life…"

"H-he's still here, I can feel it! I mean, in the h-house...his **presence** still lingers here! Every night, a nightmare; a replay of how he died. How I h-held him, how he smiled and said...'Dear, I-I will always...be here for you'. I've tried, M-Mom, I've tried so hard to tell myself that he's not here. I've tried so hard to tell myself that he's gone; he's not here, but these **wounds**…! They don't heal, they won't heal! I-I don't know what to do anymore, Mom! I don't know what to do anymore but I can't **talk** to anyone about this! They w-wouldn't understand, it's not the same!"

"Honey, please…"

"Please, e-excuse me…" James pulled away from his mother and scrambled off the sofa, heading for the kitchen.

"Dear, James please wait!"

"I-I just need some tea, Mom. I'll be right back, promise, just need a cup…"

_**-Page Break-**_

Erin appeared in the kitchen just as James began brewing a cup of herbal tea.

Herbal tea. James always downed a cup when he was stressed. Before the boy turned to mostly caffeine to get by. He accidentally drank Erin's cup one day though and found himself liking it; from there the two would keep their tea pantry stocked with many smells, flavors and creamer in the fridge.

One of their favorite pastimes: sitting down on the couch, curled up with tea and a good book.

"James." A shiver passed through the brunet, as if he **heard** his late husband. Of course he didn't, obviously, but he did slump into the nearest stool with his mug in hand. His forehead brushed the cool, granite counter top and his shoulders were shaking. Tears were leaving him; Erin could tell.

"I can't, I can't! I can't do it! I can't just **move on** from Erin, what am I? Made of stone, no I'm not like my father! My father just got up and left us, he didn't seem to give a damn about us! I w-won't be the same, I **love** Erin!"

James lifted his head and wiped at his face. His eyes...were losing their golden-red coldness. Instead they seemed a grayish-blue, the color they only took on when he was severely distraught. His whole body was shaking, grip on his mug unsteady and breaths coming out in short, sharp pants.

"James…" Erin slowly approached his younger lover, taking the stool next to him.

It often amazed Erin that he could move and touch solid objects, like a counter top or pencil, but not be able to touch people.

Oh, if he could…

Still, he reached out as if to touch James's right shoulder. He kept his fingertips off the cotton of the other's shirt though, to avoid it going through and giving the brunet a chill.

"James, I hate seeing you like this."

"M-Mom says to move on. Annie is being a bitch, thinking that because who I was seeing is 'out of town' that I'm going to get with her. This house, my bed...**our** bed feels so empty. You're still here, so present in our house. Your piano, your dartboard, your old watercolor sketches and love letters you'd give me for Christmas, Valentine's Day. You're still **here**, somehow, someway you're still here; you're here, so why do I **have** to move on? Why if you're not gone, you're not gone from my heart?"

Erin almost froze stiff when James's eyes met his, though he quickly realized that the brunet would not be able to see him.

He would not be able to see his eyes, his face, feel anything of him.

**Anything**.

"James, please don't cry. Shhhh, it's okay. Everything will be alright, go back to Brooke. You need her now, please don't shut yourself away…" The tall, dark and British devil pleaded, a hand reaching out as if to caress James's right cheek.

James took a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears, hotter and faster than before, streamed down his cheeks.

"I just wish we had died together. I-I don't care if that sounds suicidal, I don't care all I wanted was to be with you. I didn't d-do enough to save you, and then when you closed your eyes...oh Erin why?!"

"Because that's how life made it to be, love. That was what was meant to happen but look at you, you're so thin and gaunt-looking. You're hurting yourself, love, the most beautiful and sweetest soul I've ever seen. Please it hurts me to see you this way, please don't cry for me. Please love, even in death I watch over you; I'm keeping my word, I promised to never leave you but please don't do this to yourself…"

"Jamie honey?" Both jumped and looked up to see Brooke standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes wet and hands pressed to her chest.

"M-Mom, sorry I'm taking so long…! I...I-I…" James tried to find the words to say but everything got stuck in his throat, stomach sick.

"Oh honey…" Erin stepped back as Brooke embraced her son once more to her chest, rocking him back and forth.

"M-Mommy, I miss him. I miss him, I miss him, I-I miss him…"

"I know honey, I know. Shhhh, it's going to be okay. You need some sleep, how does that sound huh? Come on, I'll set your alarm so you wake up on time, but come on let's get you to bed."

_**-Page Break-**_

Brooke watched with an uneasy expression in her eyes as her son slept. He was buried under the clean, soft sheets, a few tufts of hair sticking out. He had fallen asleep on the way up; she had quickly changed him into the pajamas he had left in the bathroom, his cup of herbal tea on the bedside table.

She noticed the picture of him and Erin on their wedding day was face down. A heavy sigh left her, face stained with drying up tear tracks.

"Oh Erin, what can I do? I want to help my baby out, I really do but **what** can I do? He's been like this ever since you passed away; I will admit, I wasn't completely on board with you two's relationship but...b-but it made my baby boy so happy. **You** made him so happy, and I know he did the same for you. Even though it was **my** son that helped you, even though I didn't really approve...it made me happy to see you so alive after so long. Losing your mother, your father abandoning you and the past drug and alcohol problems you had, all of that changed when you two got together. I always said my son was like a star: lights up the dark, shines so bright. He was **your** star, Erin. I loved him first, but you did what you could to love him too. I'm sorry you had to go, we really miss you, but i-if you can hear me...please, please, **please**. Please, from wherever you are, help James. God, if You can hear me too then please help; help my son, help my baby boy."

James was curled up like a puppy under the sheets, knees to his chest and arms gripping his pillow. He had on Erin's old robe, eyes rolling under his lids from time to time.

Brooke hoped he wasn't having a bad dream. He's had too much of those as it is.

'I'm staying over, to make sure he's okay tomorrow morning. I'll make some calls; I'm sorry honey but if you won't help yourself, then I will. You may be an adult now, but I'm not losing my son. I will not lose my son.'

* * *

><p>Hey everyone! How are my lovely duckies on this fine day? Good I hope, wish you all a great day! Wow, so much took place in this chapter! I had a majority of this already written down, but seeing it again today and finishing it...wow! Brooke has every right to be worried, and Erin is frustrated. He wishes to comfort James, to help him move on but what can you do when you're a ghost with no voice? And James, poor James...and he's been dealing with this for <strong>two<strong> years? Well everyone, don't fret! There is one more chapter before we introduce Kendall! We'll see one of James's recurring dreams, don't know which one yet, and then BAM! In comes Kendall! Will it help James though, or only make him worse! Stick around for the next chapter to find out! Thank you, thank you, **thank you so much **for the positive feedback, adding to favorites and followed stories, everything! We really appreciate it, this story is currently the only one that isn't being halted by writer's block but hopefully with writing this one the others can be restored to their own bouts of glory! Thank you again, very much! We love you all and see you in the next magic trick! ;) Oh, before we forget! We got a few questions in reviews that we'd like to answer, so:

**Maslover: Well, supposedly being genderqueer is a sin since we're going not for one gender. We believe that when it comes to religion, sexual orientation shouldn't matter in terms of faith. :)**

**EpicallyObsessed: Yes, it was Kendall's mom that was introduced in the second chapter! Hmm, what could that mean, though? ;)**


	5. I'm not Him

"_You have to love me, y-your words spoke to me and made me realize that you __**need **__me! I promise to love you and no one else, j-just please love me too!"_

_Erin pinched the bridge of his nose. Another rabid fan. This was one of the reasons he hated being famous, that and the constant bugging of reporters at his door._

_He was use to some "die-hards" going a bit too far with their obsession with him and his work. But this one, this young heavily pregnant girl with a crazy look in her big, brown eyes...something inside told him to be very, __**very**_ _careful._

'_She's mental. I'll have to go about this with a different approach.' He chanted this mantra of sorts over and over in his head, to keep his crumbling composure in check._

_He took the hand gripping tightly onto his arm and gently pulled it off, smiling a small smile the whole time. "Pardon me, but I think you are confused. Let me get my chauffeur to drive you home, Miss; what is your address, we wish to make sure you get back safe and sound." _

_The young girl's left eye twitched, her frightening smile now turning sour. "Are asking me, __**us**__, to leave? W-why, I'm carrying your child! We need to be here, with you!"_

'_Okay, this is going south faster than I expected. I don't have time for this.' Erin took a deep breath, eyes now cold and hard._

"_Miss, you are delusional. That is not my child; I've never slept with a female, I don't find females particularly interesting in the slightest. I don't find getting into bed with random strangers 'kinky' either, so please refrain from such antics and give me your address." The tall, dark and British devil said smoothly, without a splash of emotion to his face and voice._

_The young girl, probably eighteen, fisted the front of her black t-shirt. She was much smaller in stature than him, with wild red hair and big brown eyes that were...slowly changing to a pale, pale blue. Her face turned red, angry tears running hot and fast down her thin cheeks._

"_Don't. You. Dare. Erin. Masters…!" She hissed venomously, snake slits for eyes now. Erin's facial expression remained the same, unfathomable. He checked his watch, not really noticing the time; his body was tense though, ready to jump into action if the situation asked for it._

"_Again, either give me your address or I call the police. Your choice, love."_

"_You...y-you LIAR!"_

_**-Page Break-**_

_James dropped his school bag and ran for the front yard. He had heard a screech, a woman screeching, followed by a loud thumping._

"_Erin!" He shouted, throwing back the heavy, light brown door. His already wide hazel-green eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, a sharp gasp leaving his chest._

_There was Erin, starling blue-green eyes larger than normal in surprise. Surprise and shock and...fear._

_He was on the steps, on his back as if a mighty wind had knocked him off his feet. And standing over him, brandishing a small knife, was a heavily pregnant teenage girl. She probably around his age, much shorter in stature and pretty thin; her curved bulge though took up most of the view from the front, wild red hair up in a messy bun and watery, angry pale blue eyes. She had one hand on her bloated stomach, the other gripping the knife; there was a insane glimmer in her eyes, expression a mixture of hatred and heartbreak._

"_Erin!"_

"_James, get back inside! Call the police now, but get away!"_

_But it was too late. The girl turned to James, eyeing the brunet disdainfully. "W-wait...it's __**him**__? You want him over __**me**__?! Y-you...__**YOU**__! YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!"_

_Erin was now worried. This girl needed help, now. And the fact that she was thinking James was his lover…_

_The older man pushed his "unwanted" feelings away, getting to his feet and using his body as a shield. He wasn't going to let __**anyone**__, much less a deranged child like this one, hurt the younger male._

"_James, phone! Now!"_

"_IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU, NO ONE ELSE WILL!" The red-headed girl screamed at the top of her lungs, springing off the balls of her feet like a puma. How she managed that while being seven months pregnant, only imagination would be able to tell._

"_ERIN!"_

"_NO!"_

_**-Page Break-**_

"_JAMES!"_

_Said brunet fell to his knees, hissing to himself. He held his right cheek, breathing hard; crimson red was pouring between his fingers, falling to the polished, marble steps below._

_The girl was white as a sheet, all the blood drained from her face as she dropped the knife. She took a few steps back, shaking violently._

_Erin was frozen in place, eyes on the boy on the floor._

_James...he had pushed Erin aside to take the blow for him. He had risked his life, risking a knife to the chest or throat, and got his cheek spliced open. Blood was running down his chin and swan neck, light pink lips now cherry-kissed._

_No tears left the brunet's deep, beautiful eyes but he did have his cell-phone out; fingers had dialed 9-1-1 during the whole adrenaline rush, a weak smile on his lips._

"_I'm sorry, but you gave us no other choice. We'll get you help, Miss. I promise."_

_**-Page Break-**_

_Erin watched as James tended to his cheek, wincing under the sting of hydrogen peroxide. Abby, the head of the maids, had tried to tend to the boy (who she loved very much) but he had insisted on doing it himself. The police had come and gone, taking away a Miss Jean Love (how ironic, with her last name) with them. All the chaos had passed, serenity once again returning to the house._

_But Erin wasn't at ease. He was frozen inside, though on the outside he seemed his usual stoic self._

"_Why did you act so stupidly?"_

_Well, __**now**_ _he was talking!_

_James sighed, making sure the band-aid over the cut was on good before turning to the older man. Erin mentally flinched; the brunet's eyes were a smoldering golden-red._

_They only took on that color when he was severely torn up inside._

_In a calm, composed voice he answered, "Because I couldn't let her hurt you."_

_That was it, plain and simple to understand._

_But Erin wasn't getting it._

"_But why?" He demanded, soon hovering over the teen in three, quick strides. His hard, bitter stare bore into James, slowly turning him to frost on the spot._

_But James's own gaze didn't falter. In fact, it...survived the cold, lifeless emptiness others were devoured by. The cold, lifeless emptiness that were the starling blue-green eyes of Erin Masters._

"_Because I love you, sir." James said through clenched teeth, tears now running down his cheeks. His whole body began to shake but no, no he didn't let that break his resolve. His biggest, darkest secret was finally out to Erin; his mother knew, and now he did._

_He fell in love for the older, taller man. He fell in love with the bitter, cold, broken man that has been his tutor for the last two-three years._

_He fell in love with Erin Masters._

_Said raven's eyes suddenly sparked with a fire, a...__**life**__. A life, a fire very rare to find in him. He swallowed hard, breathing now uneven._

"_W-what…?" Was all he could choke out._

_James reached out with one hand and brushed that pale, very pale but soft skin. He caressed Erin's right cheek, thin, warm fingers leaving every pore tingling._

"_You're not the type I thought I'd see myself falling for, but who says it's wrong?" James cocked his head to the side like a child, an innocent child._

_But the look in his eyes. The look; it was the look of someone who's been through so much pain, so much loss and confusion. That look made him seem much older than what he really was._

_It was a look Erin took on when he was really little, around the same time his mother died. And when his father abandoned him. From there, it was writing and reading mixed with alcohol and cocaine. Late nights snorting the white powder up his nose, smoking the stress away and going from rum to vodka and back again._

_And apparently someone so as happy and full of life, someone so as __**human**__, as James can adopt that look too. He's probably never smoked, touched a shot glass or felt the buzz of coke, but he knew true pain. He knew true, real pain._

_Just like...Erin._

_The older man was still when he felt a pair of warm, alive lips brush his. His eyes were opened for who knows how long, before they finally fell shut. Their lips stayed pressed lightly together, gently with no lustful push in sight. The glow of the fire filled the room with a lazy orange-scarlet light; soon their lips break apart, James's eyes meeting Erin's._

_Something made the brunet's heart melt, though._

_It wasn't the light blush dusting Erin's cheeks. It wasn't the twitching of his lips, or the once carved wrinkles in his forehead smoothing out to marble._

_It was the...light in those starling blue-green eyes, which have lost their dark hue. The light, and the tears. The tears running down his face. Erin doesn't cry; he hasn't cried since his mother Esther died._

_He hasn't cried since then._

_Suddenly flashes of his past flooded his mind's eye: His mother Esther dying, a weak smile on her thin lips. The fluorescent lighting of the hospital room turning her skin almost transparent, the beeping noise of the heart monitor._

"_Whoever hurt you, I won't let them do it again." James's voice, it was clear even with the intensity of the flashbacks. He couldn't see the brunet anymore, lost in memories, but he could still hear him._

"_Whatever they did, know that I'm not like them." Cut to a flashback of his father Isaac, yelling at him and calling him worthless. Worthless, a waste of space, stupid, __**a robot**__._

_A __**thing**_ _over a real person. Something with no heart, no emotions._

"_I'll do whatever it takes; be your friend, your lover, whatever you want me to be. I'll do whatever it takes, you just have to let me in."_

_The kids at school, bullying him. Mocking him, pushing him to the floor and beating on him. A broken nose, split lip, black eye. Being laughed at, told his work was rubbish. Spat on, stepped on and told not to speak, to shut up._

"_If there is more inside to fix, can you please let me see?"_

_Growing up alone, without a family. Taking on an armor that no one could break._

"_I'm not your father, or those bullies. I'm not them, Erin. And I won't let anyone hurt you again."_

_Erin grabbed knocked the coffee table off its legs. The box of band-aids, hydrogen peroxide and cup of coffee Abby had made for James fell to the floor, the fine china shattering to pieces and drink saturating the thick, plush carpet. James winced but didn't react in any other way, Erin's hands gripping the boy's thighs and face buried into his lap._

_Angry muttering, curses...before just sobbing. Sobbing, shoulders shaking, skin cold._

_James's fingers carded through Erin's dark brown, almost black, hair. He closed his eyes, now back to their vivid hazel-green, and rested his head on top of the older man's. His lips brushed tufts of hair, he listening to the pounding going against his knees._

_Erin's grip on James's thighs slackened a bit, instead wrapping around his legs in a weak embrace._

_He closed his own eyes and listened to James as he began singing, the other's words from earlier still ringing in his ears._

"_Whoever hurt you, I won't let them do it again. Whatever they did, know that I'm not like them. I'll do whatever it takes; be your friend, your lover, whatever you want me to be. I'll do whatever it takes, you just have to let me in. If there is more inside to fix, can you please let me see? I'm not your father, or those bullies. I'm not them, Erin. And I won't let anyone hurt you again…_

_A soft kiss to his hair._

_"I'm not him. Live your life, don't let him take it away from you. I'm not him, Erin. I'm not him."_

_Not his father, not his father, not his father._

_Not his father..._

* * *

><p>Wow, that was something, wasn't it? It took us a while to think which dream to write about but then BAM! We remembered this one, the memory of how James confessed to Erin and how he took a nasty blow for him from a crazy fan. It marks something very important in the two's relationship, the dynamic. Who was more broken, James or Erin? Well, we really hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you again everyone for the reviews, the adds to favorites and follows, it does our heart good to see our work makes people happy and excited for more! Thank you again, tell us what you think and we'll see you in the next magic act! Later, our lovely, beautiful duckies! :D Also, we forgot the disclaimer in the last chapter, so here it is: <strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush! All I own is the plot and the OC that is the mysterious Erin Masters! :D<strong>


	6. Here Without You

'No doubt Mom will kill me for this...' James thought as he climbed down the vine wall outside his and Erin's bedroom window.

He had locked the door of his bedroom, plus activated the security system when his Mom undoubtedly leaves the guestroom she took for the night. He had muted his alarm, having woken up two hours ahead of it, and showered and got dressed as quietly as he could. With his school bag, keys and cell-phone he had undid the window latch and swung both legs over, one at a time obviously. Once his thin, long fingers gripped hard at the thorny, dark green life he started the short but dangerous journey down.

If he went too fast, he might get caught on something. Or make too much noise and arouse suspicion. But if he went too slow there was a chance the courage, the adrenaline that helped him form this "escape" plan would leave him. Leave him hanging with a pounding heart and blood cold as ice.

He kept his eyes closed, tried his best to keep his breathing even until…

He sighed in relief as his shoes met solid ground, he opening his eyes to see he was safely in the backyard. The staff wouldn't be here until seven; it was five in the morning.

'I'm good on time.'

Sherwood's sky was cloudy today, like it was yesterday only without the pouring rain. A thick fog was traveling on the roads, between houses and trees like a large phantom. Most of its residents wouldn't really be up and about at this hour, even those with demanding jobs.

But James had to get out of this house, he just **had** to. The memories, the memories sometimes got too unbearable.

The guilt, the emptiness, the self-loathing. James had to escape it, for at least a while.

He often found himself confused about...well, **himself**. There are some days when he **enjoyed** feeling the guilt, the emptiness and self-loathing. After all (in his mind) he was somewhat responsible for Erin's death. He had not done enough to save him; if he had been quicker, if he had **seen** the other car coming a few minutes sooner then maybe his husband would still be alive. Someone outside of James's mind would have disagreed, that there was no possible way he would have seen the tragic event coming. He couldn't predict the future, see the evils eager to cross his path. He was human, a good soul but also flawed; if humans weren't so flawed, then maybe the world would be a better place to be in.

But then, but then there were some days in which James **hated** feeling the guilt, the emptiness and self-loathing that has festered like a pus-filled wound inside him. He knew (in the often ignored, logic part of his reasoning) that he had done all he could to save Erin. He had slowed down the loss of blood, called 9-1-1 and did his best to keep the British devil conscious, to keep those beautiful blue-green eyes staring into his. Anyone outside James's mind would have agreed with this mindset, the **truth**. He was **human**. Humans were flawed, terribly flawed but with hearts in the right place can do anything to save a life. James did all he could, because he had a **good heart**. He was one of the humans who, despite being flawed, did make the world a bit better. A bit better compared to the violence, blood shed and fall of tears that the world has seem to have fallen under.

He condemned himself over something he had no control over at the time…

James shook those troubling thoughts away, pushing them to the back of his mind as he withdrew his cell-phone to check the calendar. He has already sent a manuscript of one of Erin's remaining works to his publisher; she said she would call later on today, to let him know when the next best-seller (this time a poetry novel) would be hitting the shelves.

Even though he was gone, James wasn't about to let his husband's literary legacy die out along with him. No one really knew that Erin Masters was dead; the little town of Sherwood had swallowed the lie that he was out of the country, for a book signing in Europe. Only a few knew the truth, like the house staff and Brooke and James himself, and only a few knew that the brunet was the one picking up where Erin had left off. He wasn't writing for him, **under** his name but he had found some other works Erin had planned to get published hidden away in the devil's office.

Just because he was gone, did not mean he wanted his readers (the less insane ones) to lose his stories, poems and overall insights to his mind.

To his mind though, never his heart. Only James had access to Erin's heart, metaphorically.

James hoped that Erin didn't mind him doing this. If he couldn't have contact with his husband here on earth, with the living then at least he could still hear him, see him, and feel him through his novels. Every page, every word...all screamed Erin.

And for now, that was enough to keep **some** of the nightmares at bay…

Some.

_**-Page Break-**_

Even though it wasn't raining, James had his umbrella stretched out taut. He walked slowly, leisurely and trying his best to fend off the chill in the air. September was one of those months: strange, unpredictable and at the same time soothing. You could wear just a turtleneck and jeans, with a coat over it or not and not many would stare oddly at you.

Sherwood, Minnesota was a place of cool and snow. No soft, cotton lumps have fallen just yet, but if the temperature kept falling at this rate then there'll be snow in October.

Fun? Not really. A great excuse to take pictures of perfectly lit, random scenes though? Definitely.

One of the things Erin loved: James's talent for photography. Most of the walls in the house were decorated with the black-and-white pieces James has taken over the years. Some simple, some more intricate and Erin adored every sheet. Out of all the rooms in the house, what use to be his office had the most pictures. And a majority of them were of James, the garden-like backyard, some with the three (Erin, James and Brooke) having lunch on the front yard. What Erin didn't have of a family as a child he found in his young husband and (then) mother-in-law.

And while he didn't seem like the type, Erin had been someone who guarded what he cherished and held dear with his life.

If only James could see that smile, tiny and barely noticeable but still warm, again…

The brunet had pulled on a black turtleneck with a short-sleeved gray shirt over it, a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a pair of old white tennis shoes. He had on Erin's old black trench coat, the collar popped up and also a gray-and-blue checkered scarf. His right gloved hand gripped tightly around his umbrella's handle, the other stuffed into one of the coat's many outside pockets. His soft, sweet-smelling chocolate-brown hair was darker, still drying from the shower and his eyes were still a grayish-blue. They weren't as dark however, meaning that last night's dream (flashback) hadn't left him too drained.

After all, it was one of the memories James treasured with all his heart: the day he had confessed to Erin.

Sure, they hadn't started dating right away, about week had to pass before things fell into place but it had been worth it.

All that trying, determination and desire to break Erin's shell had been worth it. All of that had been worth seeing the man really **smile**, really **laugh**. It had been worth seeing the older, taller man open up and cry out his pain, show off his brilliant teeth in that beautiful, tiny smile; laugh, laugh and laugh until his sides began to hurt and accept a hug, a kiss to the cheek or forehead or lips.

And then getting married on his eighteenth birthday. After a year of "testing the waters", as Erin use to put it. A small but simple, beautiful ceremony. James was never one for big, outrageous festivals, Erin either. They had clicked like two corresponding puzzle pieces; age and gender had nothing on them.

Sometimes you find your soulmate where you least expect, in the **person** you least expect to.

The only person to really **understand** him, apart from his mother…

"_You and Erin? Erin Masters, oh please James! You think that will work? That man has a heart of ice, made of stone and wall of steel around his entire person! You really think you two can make it in the world?"_

_James tried to ignore the badgering woman, busying himself with the tea pot._

_He hated hearing Miss Amelia Blackwater, an old associate of Erin's, constantly belittle him about his and the older man's relationship. Miss Amelia, a beautiful French woman with long ginger hair and sparkling blue eyes, in her late thirties like Erin had the personality of a banshee._

_Rumor had it that she was in love with Erin as well, and has tried time and time again to gain his affections. The British devil however had made it clear that he wasn't interested; she wasn't a friend or acquaintance, merely a tick that has tried to suck the life out of him. That, and his interest laid solely in men._

_But she was persistent, James will give her that._

"_Plus you're a child, how can you possibly satisfy him? Immature, naive, a wild **thing** only now just being freed from its leash! Honestly why you of all people, a nobody he has had the misfortune to see grow up?!"_

'_Just ignore her, remember the poems Erin assigned you. Remember the annotations you made, and what interpretation of the poem you got from making those notes.' James said to himself over and over, having served two cups and adding only two teaspoons of sugar to one._

_Erin sometimes took his without cream, two sugars. Today was one of those days._

"_Listen to the person when they address you, you insolent little brat!" James had his back to Amelia, so he didn't see the ginger raise her hand to slap him at the back of the head._

_But soon he heard the door of Erin's office slam shut, followed by a gasp from Amelia. He turned from the tea set on the table, hazel-green eyes going wide as dinner plates._

_Erin had caught Amelia's hand in the air, a gentle but firm grip on her wrist. Said tall, dark and handsome devil's eyes were cold, bluer than normal while a small, tight smile played with his lips._

_James held his breath, eyes flickering from his boyfriend to the ginger now gawking like a fish out of water._

"_Miss Blackwater, I believe you have overstayed your welcome. Please gather your things and leave __**my **__house. No one raises their hand to my lover or insults him, dear,_ _**no one**__."_

James groaned in pain as that one **particularly unpleasant** memory pounded, hard, against the walls of his skull. Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach, eyes watering; his vision began to blur, a horn blaring loud in his ears. He turned his head sharply to the right, trying to make sense of his surroundings again.

He was in the middle of the street, a car...heading straight for him.

Once that was clear, he gasped and his eyes, now a golden-brown in fear, flew wide open once more. But he couldn't move, he couldn't feel anything below the neck.

He was...numb. Truly, deeply, **physically **numb.

...

No. No, no, no.

NO!

"JAMES!"

'I-I'm going to die…!'

_**-Page Break-**_

All of it happened so fast…

**BEEP!**

The car horn continued to ring in his ears even as it passed, even when it was far down the road. The backs of James's legs were resting on the cold, hard concrete of the sidewalk, umbrella left abandoned a few feet away. A few sprinkles of rain splashed against his face, icy and biting. His body was numb, limp like a rag doll's...but he wasn't fully on the ground.

No, there were arms around him, supporting his upper body. His head was lightly resting on a warm, hard chest and against his neck he felt a heart pounding, racing away inside a rib cage. He couldn't hear much, the horn echoing still inside his head but soon everything was quiet again. Serene, still, quiet.

Apart from his own breathing, a harsh panting and a voice.

A voice. A **voice, another voice.** Another voice breaking the haze over the brunet and bringing him back to the real world.

"Are you okay?!" James blinked once, twice before his vision finally decided to clear up.

He couldn't see the street, the shaking trees or the stop sign that seemed to glow in the soft drenches of wet though.

All he could see...was green.

A pair of eyes. A pair of **green** eyes.

A pair of deep, lively bottle green eyes wide and clear as a sunny day.

A pair of deep, lively bottle green eyes wide and clear as a sunny day...staring down into his.

* * *

><p>Wow, so much has happened in this chapter too! Aren't we just bad, evil? Well, who is staring into Jame's eyes? Who <strong>saved<strong> him? Is it another OC, or a certain someone everyone seems to have been waiting for? ;) Hmm, we can't wait to read your reactions, everyone! You guys got a mixture of Erin, James and now...! Oh we can't say who it is, you'll find out who saved James in the next chapter! Though we're pretty sure everyone **knows** who it is already, hahaha! Well, we really hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you again everyone for the reviews, those who know us knows how much we love, cherish and appreciate our dear, lovely duckies! Thank you again for the encouragement and so far positive feedback for this story; we were a little worried some would not like it due to James and Erin's age differences but so far, so good! Thank you again, tell us what you think and we'll see you in the next magic act! You are all beautiful and wonderful and amazing, and to us our stars in the night sky! Raven, out! :) **Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D**


	7. Tattoo

'W-what?'

"Are you alright?! Can you hear me…?"

James's eyes flickered from side to side, as if searching for the source of the voice. Even though his vision had cleared up, his mind was still in a fog.

All he could see...was green.

Deep, lively green.

Deep lively bottle green.

**Deep. Lively. Bottle. Green.**

"Hello?" That voice again, soft and deep but still high-pitched at the same time. Not harsh on ears, yet he had to concentrate very hard to catch every word.

Who was this?

Suddenly, James's mind was in the clear. He blinked a couple times, trying to reconnect his eyes and brain, before he saw more pass the pools of green.

A face, thin and sharp yet boyish. Thick, dark blond eyebrows, a blunt nose; a short mane of dirty blond hair, it everywhere from the breeze ruffling their clothes. High cheekbones, a pair of pale, thin lips and his eyes.

Eyes so bright, so **green** that the brunet had a difficult time accepting they were real.

No eyes should be that green and be **real** at the same time.

That shade of green, James only found in Erin's old watercolor sketches, or his own paintings. His favorite color, his favorite color happened to be green…

**Who was this?**

It was another guy, around his age. He was thin, lanky almost and a bit shorter than James; he could tell that even when both were splayed on the sidewalk. He was wearing a pair of light blue jeans, a clean white t-shirt under a dark blue plaid shirt. He had a jean jacket on because of the cold, and black Vans. He had a backpack hanging off one shoulder, mostly likely a student in college too, and a tattoo on his right wrist. From this angle James couldn't make it out very well through, most of covered by his right jacket sleeve.

'What...happened?' James forced his still wobbly body to sit up, golden-brown eyes wide still. He wondered in the back of his mind if he was experiencing shock. He dismissed that idea in less than a minute however, because (apart from his legs and arms) everything was working perfectly.

His heart rate was normal again, he could feel the electronic signals his brain was sending to every bone, muscle and nerve in his body. He could feel his blood begin to boil, burning his veins from the inside out; he can feel the weak tears in his eyes, now reverting back to the grayish-blue they were before, dry up like wells.

The warmth that he had been feeling moments ago had vanished, leaving him cold and...**bitter** inside.

Empty. Lifeless.

**Empty. Lifeless. Bitter. Hollow.**

'No.'

No, no, no. No, he can't feel these things, these sensations.

A waste of time, these emotions. All they do is cause pain in the end…

James finally found himself conscious enough to meet the other boy's gaze, biting the inside of his left cheek all the way.

The boy was handsome, James wasn't one to deny the physical attractiveness of others. Maybe if Annie had a better personality, she'd be as beautiful as the dirty blond still staring at him worriedly, concern clear in his bottle green eyes. His type of handsomeness wasn't like Erin's: bookish, exotic, simple. It didn't match the handsomeness people praised James with, either: sweet, shy and innocent-looking.

No, it was a handsomeness that was all...**natural**. It had no need for touch-up of the hair, eyebrows or clean shaven smoothness of his face. It was, it was all him; screamed all him: natural, wild and adorable.

Adorable.

**Adorable? Adorable! Adorable?!**

**Since when has James thought someone else as adorable?!**

James mentally scowled, though sadly it had managed to leak out onto his physical, facial expression as well. He could tell by the subtle change of the other's eyes. They were still a lovely, vibrant shade of green; they had grown darker though, now more like an olive than bottle.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" That voice, deep and rich and high-pitched. It matched his face perfectly: the sweet, kind face of a boy almost but with the maturity signs of a man. No doubt he was nineteen like James, they really didn't look that much apart in age.

...At this moment, it dawned on James how much contact he had with older people, adults over those his own age. He barely interacted with the kids at his Uni. It was much easier for him to speak up to adults than teens like him though, because...well, because most of his life he has spent **around** adults.

His mom, his father, Erin. The brunet couldn't name a time in his life in which he had friends his own age.

He had been that isolated, that sheltered from the world. Back then, his mom had been more overprotective of him; afraid of the world corrupting her sweet, innocent son. Thankfully it hadn't been too hard for him to adjust, explore and see the world as he got older. He may have been sheltered, but stupid he wasn't. He was very smart, a child prodigy then and a Sherlock Holmes of his own now.

"I'm fine." He finally replied, barely feeling his lips forming the words. The dirty blond didn't seem convinced though; his thick eyebrows went into sharp, topless arrows over his wide eyes.

"Are you sure, you still look pale and you're shaking." Was he? Huh, maybe his body was still out of whack.

But he had to get away. He had classes to attend to, and being around this boy was making him **very** uncomfortable. James wasn't a fan of physical contact, of people touching him. Especially people he didn't know all too well.

"I'm fine, really now please let go of me." The pretty boy untangled himself from the shorter boy's arms and weakly got to his feet, legs like jell-O. He let out a slight groan and clutched at his head, it throbbing as if someone had attacked him with a jackhammer. His other hand gripped hard at his left forearm, where **his** tattoo rested hidden under all his clothes. He shivered when he felt a thin, warm hand land on his shoulder, another at the small of his back.

"You're not okay, I should take you to the hospital." The dirty blond said, conclusion in his tone of voice. That was when James felt his temper spark.

"I said I'm fine, now let me go before I scream!" He snapped in a venomous whisper, grayish-blue eyes darkening, tears filling them up once more. The dirty blond's own eyes widened at this, surprised. Who in their right mind rejected help, especially in this condition?

"No, you need help!"

"And I said to leave me alone, don't touch me!" James closed his eyes and threw out his right hand, the one that had been cradling his head.

His push nearly knocked the other boy off his heels, backpack clinging on for dear life to his shoulder. James took that chance to bolt down the street. He tripped and stumbled a couple of times, tears flying and head ducked but that didn't stop him.

He had to get away, he had to! He **just had to!**

"Wait, please!" The dirty blond shouted at his back, but all he got was more running. More running **away**.

The beautiful brunet looked back for only a second, he unknowingly fulfilling, somewhat, the blond's request; that second was enough though, for the blond to see the other's eyes.

A cold, bitter, **hurt** grayish-blue, watery and foggy with hot, boiling tears. A look of absolute pain, terror, **confusion** coloring his face, skin bleached pale from the blood draining away.

James turned his head to keep running, to see where he was going. He was on the right track; this was the street that led to his bus stop. All he had to do was keeping going, then he'll make it to Sherwood Uni and he'll be fine.

He'll never see this guy again. He'll never see this guy again, ever again. He'll be fine, just fine.

_**-Page Break-**_

Kendall Knight let out a heavy sigh, a dejected look on his face. His expression soon changed however when his eyes caught a plastic, shiny thing on the ground; he got down on his knees and picked it up, brushing off any dirt to make sense of it.

It was an ID card for Sherwood University. It had been issued a little over a year ago; the brunet was a sophomore at this point, probably nineteen like him. His date of birth was on it, the ID's expiration date (around the same time he was to graduate), ID number and a picture.

A picture of the brunet who had just ran away. He seemed...**different** in this picture though, very different. His hair was a tad longer, eyes not a grayish-blue but lively, alluring hazel-green. His expression was beaming, excited; he had been a freshman no doubt when this picture was taken, cheerful demeanor replacing frown lines. He seemed much younger, even though it was only a year old the photo.

The ID issued to: **James Dylan Diamond**.

'We go to the same school.' Kendall's eyes grew wide at this, gaze soon directed at the street the other had disappeared on.

That was it.

He pulled the ID around and down his neck, it hanging from a Ravenclaw charm necklace, and fixed his backpack so that it hung off both of his thin almost bony, yet strong, shoulders.

Then he got up and started running himself, hoping to catch up to the brunet.

To James Diamond.

_**-Page Break-**_

James was curled up into a ball in his seat, breathing hard and uneven.

His head was between his knees, lower lip caught between his teeth.

'W-what just happened…?'

What **did** just happen back there? What caused James to lose it so easily, what had triggered that reaction?

James gripped at his left forearm again, able to feel the well-worn ink of his tattoo even with all the layers he had on.

He curled up more into the seat, whole body shaking even more violently than before.

All he wanted was to get to school.

* * *

><p>Yeah, a pretty short chapter! Sorry our sweet, pretty duckies but look at it this way: next chapter might be longer, have more Kames interaction! This is simply the "push" chapter as we call it; things will now go off, the story will be picking up in pace, interaction, and plot! So, did we do Kendall justice in terms of description? We hope we didn't use all the creative, beauty aspects on solely the OCs and James, ha! Well it was short but we hope you all enjoyed this chapter regardless! Thank you everyone for all the support you give us, it really helps us out A LOT and we just love making everyone happy! Thank you again everyone for the reviews, the positive feedback and overall interaction with the story! The fact that we can pull emotion and have everyone play with it is astounding! Maybe we're actually getting better at story-telling?! What will happen in the next chapter? Will James be okay, will Kendall find the opportunity to confront him? And what will follow their unlikely friendship? Stick around to find out! ;) Thank you again, again tell us what you think and we'll see you in the next magic act! Your host Raven, out! :D <strong>Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D<strong>


	8. Thinking of You

"_You know, I never imagined something like this could happen." Erin whispered, lips grazing James's smooth forehead._

_The two lovers were splayed on the living room couch, Erin on his back with James's head resting on his chest. The brunet's body was resting between the older man's long, lean legs, hands playing with the collar of Erin's plain, cotton light blue t-shirt._

"_What do you mean, dear?" James's soft, musical voice asked, rolling his head back slightly to meet those deep, starling blue-green eyes. The older man had one hand dancing across James's toned stomach, the other caressing a thin, caramel-colored cheek._

"_Imagined that a masochistic, arrogant, cruel, self-centered bloody bastard like me found...found a gem like __**you**__. Is it right, is it logical that two people so different in terms of personality, intellect and social background belong together? That they fit so well together, like two corresponding puzzle pieces? Before I'd ponder it over and over in my head; the age gap between us, it should have motivated me to put a wall between us. You're still so young, so curious and inexperienced...I questioned my morals. I questioned my state of mind: was it right to steal another's life away?_

_James parted his lips to rebut, only for Erin to give off his tiny, warm smile. "And even though I still think I should give you up, that you deserve more than what I can possibly offer you...I know that without you, I'd fall to __**pieces**__. You, being young and naive...it reminds me of when I was young and the time I wasted over thinking so many things, burying my emotions away to evade any further emotional turmoil. Seeing you so driven, so determined and eager to explore the world, it makes me feel like I'm getting a second chance. A second chance to live again, to __**smile**_ _and learn __**how **__to love. I'm not saying I'm reliving my life through you, but that I have a chance to share whatever time I have left with someone special to me. I don't care if I die tomorrow; you here with me, it has been the best play handed to me by this game we call life…"_

_James hadn't noticed tears had filled his eyes until he felt Erin's fingers catch them. He regained use of his own hands in seconds though, stroking those high cheekbones. He then pressed their lips together in a soft, light kiss. Their tongues danced a passionate, sensual dance, the younger male letting out a whimper when he felt those long, strong arms wrap tightly around his curved hips._

_Their lip-lock lasted for who knows how long, both pulling away breathless with flushed faces. James's eyes were shinier than normal, tears running down his cheeks but his face was split into a smile. It was bigger, wider than Erin's but both held the same sentiments of love, affection, admiration and longing._

"_I love you." The brunet whispered, Erin kissing away the glistening tracks on James's perfect, angelic face. Erin's usually cold eyes softened, a vulnerability that only James was gifted with. Only he was allowed to see what brokenness was left in the other._

"_You're the only exception...the only person to ever melt this heart of ice. Only you, love."_

James tried to shake away the memories, getting frustrated with his lack of concentration. He had an hour to kill before his creative writing class; he didn't have any homework to get done and his phone was off, to avoid an early screaming match with his mother. There was no doubt in the brunet's mind that Brooke would be very, very, **very **angry over the little stunt he pulled this morning.

Which she had every right to, if he was to be honest. What he did was stupid, dangerous and something...not like **him**. James was okay with taking risks, but wasn't one to take them so irrationally.

...Then again, when in the last **two years** has he been rational?

'All rational thinking, planning, all gone. Ugh, why did that blond idiot have to come so close to me?! As if I wasn't confused enough, why did I lack in reaction? He was touching me, **touching** me yet it was like I had been in some sort of trance! I couldn't move properly, couldn't think straight...nothing was working! Why, dammit why?!'

As he mentally fought with himself, James washed his face in the men's bathroom. He needed to look calm, cool and collected; dried up tear tracks and big, puffy red would not have helped that mask he was in the progress of constructing. With warm water and some paper towels, he scrubbed and rubbed at his cheeks, eyes and chin. He then splashed cold water against his too-hot skin to wake himself up some more, be fully conscious for the day. He was a good student, a model of academic excellence.

He couldn't afford to let that reputation slip.

But even when he had dried off, fixed his hair as best as he could without a brush and wiped down the sink, the memories of his haunting past were slowly but surely turning his eyes a grayish-blue again.

"_Are you nervous?" Erin asked softly, stroking James's face between his thin, large hands._

_Said brunet had his lower lip between his teeth, cheeks flushed a fiery red._

_Both were laying in bed, light sweat marring their foreheads and soft pants leaving parted lips. They felt warm, very warm and their shirts were missing; a growing pile of clothes rested at the foot of their bed, the only source of light coming from the lavender-scented candles giving off a reddish-orange glow._

_James buried his face away into the older, taller man's chest. His heart was racing, palms sweaty and there was a tightness in his pressed, black slacks he didn't feel a few minutes ago._

_He was nervous, yes beyond a shadow of a doubt was he nervous. He was nervous because this was his first time, his __**first**_ _time experiencing this sort of human intimacy. He knew what sex was, obviously; he was a teenage boy after all, hormones run rampant when the secondary sex characteristics begin to kick in. And of course there were classes on sex education, online research and personal explorations._

_But James...the fact that he was going to have sex for the first time wasn't what scared him. It was the fact that he was going to __**make love**_ _for the first time. This connection he had with Erin, this raw, binding chain between them wasn't due to lust, hormones or plain curiosity. It was a bond, a strong emotional bond that has developed over the years. James will acknowledge that while he waited until he was eighteen to confess his feelings for Erin Masters, the attraction has been there since he was fifteen. At first he had branded it as a childish crush, like some teenagers experience at one point or another. It was a part of growing up, meaning that eventually he was __**expected**_ _to move on to a new person._

_But the childish crush did __**not**_ _die out. Those feelings of admiration, adoration, and respect had been way too strong to associate with a childish crush. The butterflies he felt around the older man; the way he would feel like smiling when Erin would talk about his work in greater detail; how his nerves, fears would leave when when the poetry professor would meet his eyes. So much building up inside the brunet, so much...__**intensity and addiction**__._

_Plain and simple: it hadn't been a childish, stupid crush._

_And now here they were, about to advance their relationship to a more sensual, __**physical**_ _level. Truth be told, this is what he's wanted for some time now. To be happy, happy and with the man he __**loved**__._

'_I love him, it's as simple as that.' James thought with a shaky sigh before he finally decided to respond to his new husband._

_Husband. __**Husband**__, that felt right to say. To think, to_ _**feel**_…

"_I-I am, yeah I am." He whispered, hoping his confession did not ruin the tender moment they were sharing. His hazel-green eyes, taking on a scarlet-emerald blend in a mixture of arousal and passion, flew open when Erin crushed him gently, protectively to his chest. He felt the other's hot, mint breath fanning over his right ear, his words soon sending shivers down James's spine._

"_I am too. I've...never done this before, James. I'm not experienced in this...umm, particular human activity. The idea of reproduction has always repulsed me, plus I don't find meeting skin to skin very enticing. And yet, I wish to experience __**everything**_ _humanly possible with you, love. You are the only person I can see myself with, period. The only person who has reached me, and has melted the frozen remains of my heart. You are also the only person to have actually __**found**_ _all the pieces and slowly put them back together; I've known you since you were a child, I'm brilliant and always on my feet yet I didn't see that the child my only friend had would be the one who would save me. But we're not going to do this if you don't feel comfortable, love. We can just go to sleep now, lay here together; I'll be content to just simply holding you."_

_The British devil had a point. They were just starting their honeymoon; the only thing they had to worry about was to enjoy their alone time, be together and consummate their marriage not only in the physical but mental, __**emotional**_ _sense as well._

_But James did want this. He wanted to give himself up to the only man, the only __**person**__, he's ever felt this strongly for. He was nervous sure...but he was also excited, eager to continue._

_James tilted his head upwards and caught Erin's lips in a soft, gentle kiss. He ran his thin, warm caramel-colored hands over the older man's strong, toned chest and stomach; he smiled at the shiver he had provoked from Erin, whose starling blue-green eyes had darkened somewhat._

"_M-make love to me, Erin. Please…" The brunet whispered, arms tight around Erin's swan neck as he hugged him._

_He felt long, strong arms meet his waist. A pair of thin, cool lips brush his short, chocolate-brown hair. A deep, rich voice chase away his deep-rooted insecurities and virgin awkwardness._

"_I promise to take it slow, love. I won't harm you...I promise."_

James locked himself away into the nearest stall, sliding to the dirty floor with his face buried away into his knees.

Damn that dirty blond, damn that stupid, goofy-looking, heartless bastard!

If he had not touched him, talked to him then he wouldn't be in this position! He was doing so well; he had managed to sleep semi-decent the night before, not waking up in tears and a scream stuck in his throat. He had managed to maintain some sort of control (the incident with the car, so didn't count!) over himself.

And then that dirty blond came and fucked up all his hard work.

'Damn you, damn you, damn you. It's a good thing I won't ever see him, or else who knows what I'd do for payback. How dare you...you make me **feel** again after so long? I'm suppose to conceal my pain, conceal and not feel! That's what I've been trying to for the last two years! Conceal, not feel a damn thing! To go numb…! Why the hell am I slipping so much!'

"Damn!" James smashed his fist into the thick, metal wall behind him. He didn't care that his skin turned a sickly red from pain, or that blood began to color his fingers from a new cut across his palm.

All he wanted was to go numb again, to **not feel a thing…!**

'To. Not. Feel. A. Damn. Thing!'

_**-Page Break-**_

"James, James love where are you?"

Erin couldn't find his dear lover anywhere. He had ran after him, once the brunet had ditched the dirty blond by the name of Kendall (Erin was good at guessing names). He had been hot on his trail until James had rounded a corner and disappeared. Sherwood Uni was big, fairly big for a small town; there was no way he would be able to find James on his own.

'Okay, okay think clearly. James, where would you go to be alone?' Erin racked his brain for a clue, only for his ticket to appear right in front of him.

In the form of a...lanky, dirty blond with bottle green eyes.

"Kendall. You're looking for him, too. Wait, you have his creative writing class; I saw your schedule, when you took it out of your pocket. There's about...fifteen minutes left until he's to report for lecture. If I can't find him, you can. You can, and please help my husband…! He's not alright; I'll use you as transportation, I'll follow you and you'll lead us to him. Lead us to him, Kendall. Lead me to him…"

* * *

><p>Hey, we're not feeling good. We've been punched in the gut really badly, and at the moment do not feel crash. Please though, enjoy this chapter. We pumped it out especially for our lovely readers; we hope you enjoy it and tell us what you think...<strong>Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater.<strong>


	9. Never too Late

James found himself in creative writing, taking the seat farthest from the front. The professor has yet to show up; he had his stuff out for the class but his mind was far away, he staring blankly out the window at the gray, cloudy mess outside. Lost within the shelves of his mind palace.

There was no rain in sight, but the clouds were growing darker and darker. If no rain came now, it was promised for later.

'Hopefully it will hold off until I'm home. I hope Mom and the staff are alright; Abby gets a bit nervous when there's a thunderstorm.' The brunet made a mental note to call home during his half hour break after CW, to make sure things were running smoothly. That, and because the staff (Abby, Nicholas, Diane and John) were like family to him and he'd lose it if something were to happen to them.

He's already suffered one loss. One or two more would...would just…

James bit his lower lip and squeezed his eyes, a darker grayish-blue, shut. It was not the time to think so pessimistically. He was in school, dammit. He had to stay calm, cool and collected.

'Hold it all in, don't let it show. Hide it, don't feel it. Conceal, don't feel...like Elsa; alone but alone and free, keep it all in. It's for the best, no need to feel. You feel, you fall apart. Emotions can make you, but also break you.' He repeated this mantra of sorts over and over in his head, yet deep down something was...hurting.

It wasn't a strike to the chest kind of hurt though, but more of a **pulling **kind of hurt. It was a sensation that seemed to be telling him something; a sensation that **was** telling him something, not that it seemed to.

The brunet felt his eyes widen as the sensation only grew and grew. Grew and grew stronger and stronger. He felt like his torso was being crushed between two stone pillars; his blood went ice cold, and a sudden dizziness began to cloud his mind. His vision blurred, though not via tears. He felt a weird stinging, prickling wave wash over his skin like nails. He let out a slight groan and gripped hard at his hair, hoping whatever nauseous, ill tangle inside him would pass.

The last thing he needed was to collapse. Again. Only this time in sc-

'What the…?!' James's train of thought broke there and then, he sitting up straighter with eyes threatening to pop right out of their sockets.

_**-Page Break-**_

"Love…" Erin couldn't help the term of endearment from slipping past his lips. He stood behind Kendall, said dirty blond's bottle green eyes on James, his own starling blue-green ones lighter, brighter than normal.

At least he was seeing with his own eyes that James was okay. The brunet had a habit of getting himself into strange, dangerous situations. That time with Miss Jean Love wasn't James's last near brush with a fatal injury.

'He was always in danger around me, whether I acknowledged it or not. Whether I acknowledged it then and there.' Erin thought with sad smile, perfect teeth chewing at his lower lip.

He was pulled out of his stupor however when a low growl rumbled free from James's chest, eyes dark and hostile and narrowed. He looked like a cobra ready to strike, a hand unconsciously going for his tattoo again.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Never once has Erin heard such animosity, such **venom** in his young husband's voice before now. He's always been so sweet, happy and friendly to everyone he came across; he was nice even to Amelia when she didn't deserve it, when she had tried to crash the wedding their friends and family had worked in hours to help prepare.

'James...what has happened to you?'

Erin watched in awe as Kendall only smiled, as if brushing off the sting of the older boy's greeting.

"You dropped this, you're welcome." He said, pulling out a thin, plastic card and approaching James's desk. He didn't toss it onto his books, carelessly threw it; he took the time to gently place it in...James's free **hand** before strolling along and taking the seat behind him, getting everything he needed for class out as well.

James's eyes were wide once more, face paler than normal though.

'H-he...gave this back to me?' Both sets of warm, thin caramel-colored fingers traced the cool surface of the ID card, darkish blue-gray eyes going a golden-hazel in confusion.

James looked over his shoulder at Kendall, who paused in getting out a pencil to meet the brunet's face.

They said nothing to each other for three, long minutes. Erin's eyes kept flickering from James to Kendall, Kendall to James and back again, wondering what will be said finally.

...Nothing, they said nothing. James's beautiful face twisted into another hard glare before he turned his head back to his desk, stabbing the next clean sheet in his binder with his own pencil.

"Thank you…" He spat as if the words tasted bad, teeth clenched and shoulders tense.

"We'll finish this up after class." Kendall responded with a tone of finality, flipping through his sketchbook to the drawing he's been working on. James let out a snort, amused a bit as he disappeared into his mind palace; he still had time to get away from here before class, what better excuse than to the files and books and shelves in his mind?

Those trips, often random or planned, into his subconsciousness really did help. At least for a while.

Erin swallowed hard and took a seat in the corner of the room, away from the other students. He felt a lopsided smile pull at his lips; he had an idea. It was a strange idea, a crazy idea that normally he wouldn't work with if another choice presented itself.

But James, James needed this. His dear husband, if he kept this up...would place himself in danger. Danger of self-destructing himself, of causing his own death. A sad death. A heartbreaking death. A **premature** death.

He had way too much to live for…no, he **has **too much to live for. James will not die so young, suffer any longer if Erin has a word in it. He loved his husband, will always love him but he won't be able to move on, **pass on **until he was sure he was leaving the other in a more stable, emotional and physical, state of mind.

James, even in death, was everything to him. Even in death his love for the brunet went on. People say that a marriage, that a love on earth lasted until death pulled them apart. Those people were wrong though; love never dies, it's forever. The body dies sure; it rots, wears away, loses its vigor and energy, spirit, **love** but that is only the physical. The mental and emotional...those are hard to kill, even with the most potent of illnesses.

James will always be the one Erin holds dear. James will always be Erin's world, reason to smile even in this new "life". He was trapped in limbo, both were, but he could get them out. He had a new chess piece to play you see, this boy Kendall Knight.

Erin could use him, use him to get James to finally move on and see the future in a whole new way.

Use this Knight boy as a chess piece, plan his moves right until...he made checkmate. Until James was happy.

If there was a God watching Erin, and if angry at him for breaking the rules between the living and dead...then Erin didn't seem to care. If God couldn't help James move on, then he will. He will help his young husband move on, heal and find a way to love again. To love **and **live again.

With this new chess piece, this knight...he will make it checkmate.

Which meant...

"The game is on."

* * *

><p>Hey everyone! Sorry we've been gone for so long: a lot of drama (more personal than academic-wise) has been plaguing our state of mind and it's still is, but we have worked a way to deal with it: mind palace. And we lied, this chapter turned out to be shorter than expected but as Erin stated: "The game is on". :) Meaning, the story will now pick on the healing and moving on portion, with some James resistance at some points. Will Erin help Kendall in this seemingly impossible case? Just <strong>how<strong> will Erin use Kendall, his new chess piece, and how will James reinforce the walls around his heart? Will those walls **last** for long? Stay tuned for the next magic act and see! :D Again sorry for the long absence but we all love you, thanks for the major support for this story! We totally appreciate it, hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and we'll see you in the next one! Hopefully we'll have it out sooner than later, but thank you again and stay beautiful! ;) Oh and we forgot, we were thinking of Sherlock (BBC) while writing this so if you see any references, you'll know that that show (and Benedict Cumberbatch) has become a major part in our life now! **Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D**


	10. Colors

James eyed the dirty blond sitting across from him carefully, arms and legs crossed while his head was tilted to the side. Kendall had his elbows resting on the table, knees nicely tucked in and fingers locked.

The two had went to the cafeteria after CW, under the impression of a proper introduction. Neither were eating, neither were hungry but they were taking the time to spare a drink. James was drinking some herbal tea (the machine was working today again, lucky for him) and Kendall a glass of lemonade. Both were sitting in high chairs, backpacks hanging off the backs of their chairs. The brunet watched the shorter boy for who knows how long, wondering when (and if) he was going to say something.

He only had to wait ten minutes.

"Why were you in a rush this morning?" A simple question, an ice breaker if you will. James fought the urge to smile sardonically, blood boiling.

"I like to get to school early, gives me time to escape to my mind palace." He responded coolly, bringing his beige-colored mug to his lips for another small sip.

"Mind palace? So you're into Sherlock." That last part wasn't a question.

On the outside James seemed composed; on the inside however he was shaking, completely shocked.

'He knows the reference?'

"Yes, I like to use that phrase quite often. Describes well what goes on in my mind: vaults, doors, shelves full of memories. Sometimes it gets a little disorganized you see, so I'm usually making daily trips to keep everything in check."

"I can tell, you're pretty smart." Kendall said, stirring around the ice cubes with his straw. James let a smirk touch his lips at this, darkish blue-gray eyes narrowed into slits.

"I'm not the type to show it off. I like to keep to myself; having people in my business, it's just a nuisance. Speaking of nuisances, again why did I agree to this?"

"To what? Oh, you mean this date?"

"Please, food substitutes and low-quality tea isn't what I would consider a 'date'. Let's call this a meeting if you will, strictly that and nothing more."

"If you say so, I'm not the one who ran away as if his ass was on fire." Kendall shot back. If the jab had been intentional or not, James couldn't tell. The blond wasn't easy to read, as most people were.

"I don't like to be touched. Physical contact is disgusting; being touched by a stranger isn't as 'astounding' as the films make it out to be. Human nature is heavily built upon ridiculous themes of love, friendship and family. I like to think with a more realistic perspective of life-my childhood was nice, but it has to go sometime." James said, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Kendall chewed on the inside of his cheek, as if contemplating an appropriate response to this intricate thought.

'Just don't say a word, don't challenge me again.' James thought bitterly, part of him wanting nothing more than to leave the table.

Kendall smirked though, the sight sending a chill down the brunet's spine. Erin caught sight of that but hesitated to move. He had to watch their interaction, how they communicated with each other; if his plan was going to work, then he had to know his chess pieces. He did know James, but obviously not with the dirty blond. Knowing one chess piece was one thing, but getting to know **both** and figure out how to make them **work** was a whole other story.

So he stayed put, standing behind Kendall and watching over them like a hawk. The gears in his creative brain were working at full power; he was pulling everything out of his **own **mind palace, flipping through papers and papers to find what he could use for ammo.

"You know, that's a really narrow-minded way of seeing the world." Kendall said as he took another sip of his lemonade.

He said this in a casual manner, yet it managed to make James's temper flare a bit.

"Did you just call me 'narrow-minded'?" He hissed, balling up his napkin. Kendall popped his lips off the straw with a nod, seeming unnerved by the look of absolute venom the older boy was giving him.

"Yep."

"And why is that?"

"Because you seem to only focus on the **negative **aspects of life. Physical contact is wonderful most of the times: you get comfort, love, affection from a kiss or hug or smile. What can't be conveyed in words can be through simple gestures. That and humans **can't** live without contact with other humans; we're social creatures, no matter how much someone says they like to be alone...they really don't, and are hurting inside.

"That's not the ca-" James began to say, but the blond cut him off gently.

"If you're going to say that's not the case with you, then you're damn lying to yourself. You need physical, human contact just like everyone else. It's impossible to go on alone for long periods of time-it's not healthy and quite frankly kind of hypocritical of you to say. It's like you're saying you're not human when you **are**. As much as you want to change that you know you can't." Kendall finished this off with a napkin to his mouth, swallowing a particularly small ice cube.

James found his grip on the mug loosening as a cold wave washed over him. His darkish blue-gray eyes had reverted back to a golden-brown. The color they took on when he was deeply bothered or surprised by something.

He wasn't bothered by the other's words, even when he tried to convince himself otherwise. He felt like he should have been bothered by them, after all Kendall Knight has only know him for an **hour and a half**; what the bloody hell did he know?

...Why did this mind game seem so **familiar**?

The only person James has ever had a mind game track with had been...Erin.

_**-Page Break-**_

"_Why are you so hard to read?" Erin asked randomly one morning as James was washing the dishes. Everyone by now has had breakfast and since James wanted to somehow pay the older man back for being his college prep teacher, he worked as part of the staff whenever he could._

_It was something James didn't mind doing. He already knew how to cook, clean, wash clothes and dishes, iron bed sheets and properly scrub a toilet, tub and sink. He taught himself to do all that and more, plus even though he didn't get paid for this he considered getting a workplace experience and seeing Abby, Nicholas, Diane and John every other day was payment enough._

_Even if he had to work for the stubborn, frigid, hardass known as Erin Masters._

"_Umm, care to elaborate sir?" The brunet asked politely, not turning away from the sink as he got started on drying them manually. They did have a dishwasher in the kitchen, a working dishwasher but again James preferred to do things the old fashion way._

_Erin rose from the stool he had perched on, soon spinning the brunet around so that their faces were inches apart. James's eyes grew wide slightly in alarm, though he didn't do much to react negatively._

"_Why. Are. You. So. Difficult. To. Read?" The British devil emphasized each word as if they were their own sentence, starling blue-green eyes piercing into James's soul._

_James sighed and placed a soapy dish back into the sink-ful of water, expression both hard and unfathomable at the same time. "Because that's who I am, sir. If you have something to ask me though, please feel free to do so; I'm a man of few secrets believe it or not, I have nothing to hide."_

_Erin took in that answer and remained silent for who knows how long, James wondering if he was going to get a smartass response back or worse fired._

_The taller, older man took a deep breath and drew himself to his full height. His face remained a stoic mask, before...a lopsided smile touched his perfect, thin lips._

_The right side of his face rose first, before the left. Plus, his left eye twitched as he smiled, as if smiling had pulled a nerve._

'_Maybe he doesn't smile as much?' James thought to himself, train of thought almost immediately lost when Erin's forehead brushed his softly._

"_If only I had the freedom to say the same. Bound by the chains of my past, it's hard to really break them. One can either break the chains and move on, or keep them...keep them from falling flat on their face. Again it depends on the person, the person and just how strong they are inside. Obviously the strength I possess differs greatly from yours…" With that being said, Erin grabbed his mug of coffee (black, no cream with two sugar cubes) and waltzed out of the kitchen, never looking back at James._

_He didn't even hear the crash of the plate slipping from James's hands, shattering to fine shards in the soapy water._

_**-Page Break-**_

'W-why that memory?' James thought, eyes going wide as the sounds and sights of that particular memory began to fade.

He was soon back at Sherwood Uni. in the cafe with Kendall, clutching his mug tightly with both hands. His knuckles had turned white, pulse jumping rapidly under the skin of his neck. His stomach suddenly grew tight, face pale as a sheet.

"James...wait, this boy." Erin walked about until he was eyeing Kendall from the side, trying to piece together what had just happened.

He had...**saw** the memory James had just fallen into, through his own eyes. But how did that make sense? Erin was dead, James wasn't. The brunet had no bond, no tie with the once older man anymore. At least in terms of the living-dead; physically and emotionally James was still tied to Erin, still held on to him.

But how was it that he saw that memory...**through** Kendall?

Erin reached out with one hand; instead of it phasing through the dirty blond though...it got stuck, being **pulled** in.

As if...Kendall had something that use to **belong** to Erin.

"Gah!" Said dirty blond jumped and nearly fell out of his seat from the cold, icy caress. James got to his feet in that instant, grabbing his bag and shoving his seat back in place.

"I need to be alone." He said but his voice was all wrong; instead of poison dripping off each letter, a weak, **vulnerable **tremor curled around them like vines.

"W-what?" But Kendall couldn't say more.

The brunet was already gone.

Surprisingly though, all three had the same thought:

'What just happened?'

* * *

><p>Hey everyone! Did you miss us? We sure missed the lot of you! We're back with a new chapter, and boy did something weird happen or what? How was it possible that Erin was able to see the same memory James saw through Kendall? Why can Erin actually touch Kendall and not James? And what does Kendall have that use to belong to Erin? So many questions, will be answered as the story goes on! Thank you again to Sara-chan and annabellex2 for reviewing the latest chapter, we really appreciate it! That and the support for our personal issue (which we have resolved) that had had us nearly struggling with a stable physical state of being; we really do appreciate it and hoped this magic act has left you wanting more! Thank you again, you rock and we'll see you in the next one! :D <strong>Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D<strong>


	11. Pretending

James wasn't expecting to escape from Kendall Knight for the rest of the school day. The two had a majority of their classes together (unfortunately), apart from the brunet's Shakespeare class. Kendall had sculpture around this time; what didn't help though was that the classrooms were literally across the hall from each other.

But James was thankful for this small window. He was glad there was a time in his day to escape the dirty blond; his mind wasn't on Othello however, sadly. As much as he tried, nothing from the pages stuck. His mind palace was heavily disorganized and he was trying to fix it: papers upon papers of a mess, a mess that just had to happen today.

'What happened back there? I got this weird feeling...like Erin was there. B-but that's impossible right, he's gone! Erin's been gone for two years, nothing is going to bring him back…! As much as I wish that were possible, it's not and I have to keep reminding myself of that! But then **what** happened with Knight?'

James set down his pencil and sighed, eyes a lighter golden-brown than normal. He truly was confused about this. He just met this guy; they met through an unpleasant chance in life but has so far turned the brunet's life upside down. Returning him his ID, out-sassing him back at the cafe and then that strange, familiar sensation when he recalled that memory about Erin.

It felt like...like James had been **home**. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had been **free**.

No pain, no urge to throw up or break down. No sense of emptiness, hollowness; a wave of serenity had washed over James while he was with Kendall, and it had left the second they parted ways. It was strange, it was unusual and it downright scared him.

It **scared** him.

"What does this mean?"

_**-Page Break-**_

Kendall was finished with his assignment. Sculpture wasn't a hard class to survive; just listen to the professor, take notes and then let your creative side come out. You followed those three **simple** rules and you pass, simple as that.

Right now the class was taking today's period to plan out their next big sculpture: it had be of something significant, sentiment to them. It could be anything, from a person they loved to a symbol. As long as it wasn't something too profane, Dr. Maine let the students have free reign over their latest project.

Kendall was a pretty creative guy. Almost anything and everything can pop into his head...yet what came out of the once soft, gray glob had surprised the dirty blond.

Two hands locking fingers. One of the hands was pale, pale like marble (you could tell even with the shade of gray) and thin. It was thin like the other but had indents in the folds of its knuckles; this told Kendall that the owner of the hand, male, had been older than the other. It was older, maybe thirteen years older but it was still young, still perfectly chiseled.

The other hand was darker, darker that if he was painting instead of sculpting he would choose a dark brown color, closer to caramel for the skin tone. It was thinner, fingers not as long as the older's but still long, long and thin. There weren't as many scars, many bruises or indents in the palm, knuckles, wrist; the owner was probably eighteen, much younger than the other.

Still, what brought them together were the simple, golden bands on their ring fingers.

Simple, golden bands. Simple, golden **wedding **bands.

These hands...were the hands of a married couple.

One of the hands...resembled James's left hand. Kendall didn't see a ring on his finger while they were at the cafe, but this detail, this **immense** detail told him that the brunet must have been wearing a wedding band.

James Dylan Diamond, only nineteen right now...he had been married.

Married to an older man...a man that Kendall had seen. During the cafe, during that strange, **out-of-body** experience.

James, a much younger James, probably sixteen. Washing dishes in a near perfect kitchen, with a polished countertop and hand-carved wooden high chairs. He dressed in a white shirt, nicely ironed, pressed black dress pants and a matching vest. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands dripping with soapy water residue. The vision...no, **memory** changing to James coming face-to-face, sweet breaths mingling, with an older man.

A handsome, taller, older man.

The man...he was tall, dark and handsome. Pale, soft skin that went well with his short dark brown, almost black, hair. Curly dark brown, almost black, hair. His eyes were a starling blue-green, a **very** starling blue-green, dark and cold and unfathomable as he stared down at the brunet, jaw locked and expression stoic.

...If Kendall hadn't been paying attention, he wouldn't have noticed that while both were staring rather coldly at each other...their hands had been locked rather tightly together over the sink. Hands locked tightly together, fingers playing and twisting over and over like vines. They had been staring into each other's eyes, James listening to the other go on about being "difficult to read" but their hands...their hands had betrayed them.

Betrayed their acts, their masks. What they really wanted their hands were showing to the whole kitchen: the desire to be close to the other, the affection they try hide away, unconditional support during the worst of times. And...the love. The **love** they had for each other. James's eyes, a vivid hazel-green in the flashback, were warm and caring and just **filled** with tender care. The older man's, a dark and haunting bluish-green, were cold and hard and deep...yet pass those icy walls was a warmth too.

A warmth that needed to be freed, to be taught life. To be taught how to live, and...how to love.

So close, but at the same time...so far apart.

Kendall closed his eyes, and kept them closed for who knows how long.

But when he opened them again, they weren't a vibrant bottle green. They were...a starling blue-green, brighter than they ever were.

"Let me show you something…."

_**-Page Break-**_

"_You __**love**_ _him?" Abby repeated, cat-like golden eyes wide. Her hands fell over her mouth, graying reddish-blonde hair tumbling out of its usual bun._

_Erin Masters had his hands in his pressed black dress pants pockets, sharp chin pointed downwards as he stared at the sleeping brunet in his bed._

_James didn't look as pale as he did an hour ago, the bite of hypothermia now a thing of the past. His almost shoulder-length chocolate hair was now dry, splayed across the pillowcase like a silky halo. His lips were parted, soft pants leaving his chest. His soaked-to-the-bone clothes were now down in the laundry room, replaced by the tank top and plaid bottoms he wore to bed. He still had several blankets wrapped around him and a warm, wet washcloth on his forehead but he was looking much better._

_Much better than when Erin had saved him from drowning in the cold, numbing waters of the frozen over pond._

_The older man winced. The ice shattering under the younger's feet; his scream piercing the still, lazy winter afternoon; his warm, soft skin turning blue as an ugly chill began to consume him; tears turning to frost against his thin cheeks, eyes fluttering shut as he started to sink._

_Erin making waves as he swam, fought with all he had to save the other. Mouth-to-mouth, get the other's pulse going and him coughing out cold water before rushing him inside. The older man shouting, barking orders as everyone sprinted into action; John made for the blankets; Abby went to get a bath running; Nicholas nearly tripping over his feet to make soup, hot tea and grab the boy's pajamas; Diane starting a hearty fire in Erin's fireplace, preparing his bed and digging through his medicine cabinet._

_Everyone did what they could and then waited, waited by the master's ajar bedroom door with their hearts racing and expressions hopeful, praying._

_Those expressions matched Abby's, the head maid, now though: reading surprise and confusion._

_All of them loved their master Erin. For someone frigid, hard to comprehend and often times rude, he wasn't a __**bad**_ _person. He wasn't a bad person but a **broken** person; someone so __**shattered **and** damaged**__, being cold and distant were the only ways he knew how to interact with other human beings._

_But James….James._

_Erin cleared his throat as he took a seat at James's side, reaching out a pale, thin hand to wipe away the stray tear running down his face. To wipe away the lone tear, and to the caress the once again warm, soft caramel-colored skin._

_The older man raised his head, Abby and the others (from the angle they were at) letting out silent gasps._

_Erin Masters...Erin Masters was crying. Silent, big and boiling hot tears streamed down his sharp, beautiful face and puffed out his usually hard, cold blue-green eyes. In fact, all the blue was gone, from his eyes. They weren't a bluish-green anymore; the blue had bleached out, lost to the green that was taking on a very pale, very, very pale olive tone._

_His breathing was uneven, shoulders slightly shaking._

"_I...I can't say that word. It's a word that is beyond my comprehension, or perhaps I choose to be ignorant of its meaning. Whatever is the most accurate explanation, I cannot simply say it, Abby. All I c-can say is...is that if he dies, I go with him. I go with him, end of story."_

_**-Page Break-**_

Kendall blinked.

Kendall blinked. Once, twice, three times for good measure. He was back in the classroom, the other students chatting away while their professor left for his office to take a call. He was breathing regularly again, a cold sweat at the back of his neck though. He tilted his head up towards the window, already wide eyes going even wider.

Tall, dark and handsome. Pale, soft skin that went well with short dark brown, almost black, hair. Curly dark brown, almost black, hair. Eyes a starling blue-green though the blue soon began to fade, being bleached away by the well of emotions bubbling behind those impressive, beautiful eyes. The beams of light, of pale gold and soft white, made the marble of his skin shine, his facial features more pronounced.

'Y-you...'

Erin eyed the dirty blond with deep, piercing olive green eyes. He looked like he could burst out crying, but he couldn't; eyes wet, yet nothing fell.

'You...you...'

"You can see me…"

_**-Page Break-**_

James found himself in the men's bathroom again, clutching at one of the shiny, wet sinks. His head was ducked, yet when he did raise it he saw his eyes were wet. They were wet, really wet; tears streamed down his cheeks, hard and fast and heavy. His breathing was uneven, threatening to split his torso in two.

He sunk his teeth into his full, soft lower lip. He slid to the floor, on his knees and one hand wrapped about his torso as if to keep it from shattering to millions of little, tiny pieces.

The other hand, his left hand, was pressed to his lips.

Pressed to the smooth, cool metal of his wedding band.

* * *

><p>There's nothing much we can say but...stay tuned. Stay tuned for the next magic act and see! :D Hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and we'll see you in the next one! Thank you again and stay beautiful! ;) <strong>Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D<strong>


	12. I'm not Him (Kendall)

"W-who are you?" Kendall whispered, keeping his eyes focused on the stretch of long, gray concrete in front of him.

He still had a bit of walk before he could make it home, but that wasn't the reason he was keeping his voice down.

"Erin, Erin Masters." The ghostly entity responded coolly, making sure no one was in earshot of their conversation. Even though no one would be able to hear him but Kendall, others can still **hear** Kendall.

They can still hear **him**, so it was best to play it safe than sorry.

The dirty blond's eyes grew wide at this.

'E-Erin Masters…? Wait, I know that name...he's an author. And...he's d-dead?'

Kendall was talking to a ghost? To a ghost?

…

Kendall was talking to a ghost. Kendall was talking to a ghost, he was talking to a ghost.

He was talking to a...ghost.

That was the only explanation for this entire thing. At least Kendall hoped it was; he really didn't feel like losing his mind at the age of nineteen.

He was hoping to do more with his life, thank you very much.

As if reading the other's thoughts, which he did (he couldn't tell the blond that), Erin let a sad smile touch his lips. "My death has been kept a secret, Kendall Knight. It's nothing something that can be shared in a tiny town like Sherwood, where news can give birth to mindless gossip. My death would have been tied to other secrets I kept. The most recent works of mine have been published under **my** name, but all the credit for that goes to my husband. He wanted to keep my legacy alive; he took it upon himself to make it seem as if I was still writing, just out of the country for a tour.

"How long have you been...gone?"

"Gone, as in dead you mean. I've been dead for two years now; I died four months after my wedding, in a car accident.

"After your wedding?" The blood drained from Kendall's face. Erin's sad smile broadened at this, seeing the sympathy in the younger's green eyes.

"Yes, a terrible way to go out isn't it? My wedding day, it had been the happiest day of my life; a simple ceremony, nothing too outlandish and standing before the soul I've come to cherish over the years. His beauty, his heart, his **unconditional** love...all given to me after years of wait, only for it to be ripped from my hands when my guard was down. James survived the accident, thank God if one exists, but…

"Losing you broke him." Kendall finished for Erin after he trailed off, stopping to wait for the lights to change so he could cross the street. Erin nodded, shaking his head so a few thick, dark curls fell over his eyes.

"I've watched him suffer for the last two years. Seeing him like this, a shell of his former self breaks my heart. Kendall Knight, James Diamond was...no, no he **is **my whole world. Even in death, all that matters to me is him. He was the first person I ever loved in this manner, the **only** person in fact. I'd be lying if I said I never knew **how** to love; the love he gave me though, it differed greatly from what I received from others before him. Sibling love, the love of a mother...the love James gave me however was a mix: the love of a friend, a lover. The support of a friend, a lifelong companion. I treasured the few I had close by, but he...he really **did** change me.

"You loved him." Kendall didn't have to say more. Those words alone conveyed what Erin was trying to say.

The older man let out a bitter chuckle, eyes sharp below his hair. "You know, I never did say those words to him. Fear always held me back; it isn't easy to say those words to someone else. They have so much power to them-in an instant you can hold someone else's entire **life** through those words. And sometimes those words can be abused, used up and thrown away as if nothing. And yet...I regret not saying them to him. He would always say them to me, yet never pressured me to return the sentiment. He always smiled and waited, waited so **patiently** for me. It often made me laugh; he was much younger, very inexperienced yet sometimes it seemed like **I** was the teenager in our relationship. I pouted, complained, whined like an insolent child about the most trivial of things possible yet he never lost hope in me. He truly believed in me, he **loved** me enough to stay even when the most ugly, darkest side of me came out.

"And you guys got married when he was eighteen?"

"Yes, yes we did. At first his mother Brooke opposed our relationship, and I didn't blame her. I mean, is it a common occurrence? That a friend falls for his friend's **son**? Her only child, her pride and joy? No, I don't believe it is...and after a while of opposing it, she allowed me to court James. Oh wait, forgive me. James always said I sounded like I came from Shakespeare's time, an inside joke we'd play with. She allowed us to date, to get to know each other more and grow closer. After a year we decided to 'tie the knot', as Abby so flusteredly put it. I've known him since he was a child, yet I wasn't really a witness to him growing up; my work always had me out of the house, traveling and such, so luck allowed me to see them every...five years or so? My feelings had developed by the time he was sixteen. Yes, yes I know it's a perversion, to have fallen for a teenager but I can assure you that nothing...**physical** took place. We only crossed that line once he was eighteen and we were married; not once did I try to toy with him.

Kendall felt an embarrassed blush cross his thin cheeks, though he had no idea why. Once he managed to cool down, he saw the light had changed. He began to cross the street, Erin in tow.

"I'm very sorry, Erin. And James...oh God I had no idea, and the way I treated him back at the cafe."

"Do not apologize, Kendall Knight. Like you said, you had no idea and James...James I know does not mean to be this way. It's the guilt, the pain has hardened his heart so much but I can assure you that that is **not** how he really is. He's a wonderful person, an angel. But even angels can fall…"

"There's one thing I'm not understanding though: why me?"

"Hmm? I beg your pardon."

"Why can **I** see you? I mean can't you make yourself known to James, too? Why only me?" Kendall elaborated politely, tilting his head slightly to the side. Erin let out a heavy sigh, lips in a tight line.

"I do not know the answer to that, I'm afraid. Trust me, not knowing something is a thorn in my side. I'm sure the answer will come to me in time, but I hate not being able to provide you with an answer. I **do** know, however, that James felt the same.

At this Kendall paused to tilt his head more, keeping a casual air and stepping to the side so not to block the way for others.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that he felt a pull towards you as you did towards him, Kendall Knight. My husband is like an open book; his face, it easily betrays his inner turmoil or joy, it's easy to read him. Well, once you get to know him it is. I never knew he wanted to have a family until I accidentally heard him tell Abby. He...he wanted a family with me, you know. He believed me capable of loving another creature as a father; I never once thought of myself as 'father' material but...if that was what he wanted then I would have given it to him. A family with him, to be the father to a child that mine wasn't; a challenge on its own, but to have his child, **our** child would have been wonderful. Oh, sorry I lost myself there...anyway, yes a pull. Something is pulling you towards him, as it is pulling him towards you. We don't know what it is yet, but I wish to ask you to figure it out. Figure it out and please, please help him…

The dirty blond bit his lower lip, eyes falling to his shoes. "I don't know if I'll be able to reach him, though."

"Explain." Erin prodded gently, placing a hand on the younger's shoulder. It didn't phase through him, not in the slightest; whatever that was connecting the three, connecting Erin **to** Kendall was a power force indeed.

"Because he doesn't seem to **want** help, Erin. He's always angry and depressed all the time, and being touched...it hurts him. It **hurts** him. And **I'm not you**, Erin. I'm not you…."

Erin soon had both of his hands on Kendall's shoulders, that prompting the dirty blond to look up and meet the older man's eyes.

The older man's wide, beautiful, sharp bluish-green eyes.

"Kendall, this isn't about me. Well in a way it is, but something….**something** inside me is telling me that you **can** reach James. I can **feel** it, really I can. I may not be here, physically on this earth but my soul won't rest if the one person I love is suffering. He doesn't need isolation, self-imposed exile of a sort but a **friend**. He needs a friend, someone to confide in. Someone that isn't like everyone else. He needs to be reminded of the **good** things in life, to **live** again. And I **know** you will treat him right, you will care about him the way he needs to cared for right now. Someone who won't push him, won't judge him. Please, I will help you in any way I can to get to know him, to break down those walls but please...please, please, **please **help me. Help **him**, Kendall Knight, please help him…."

Erin was pleading now, on his knees before the dirty blond and clutching at his thin, pale hands. Kendall shivered as he could feel, really **feel** the other's cool, smooth touch. Could feel the desperation, worry and **fear** coming off him in waves.

'He's worried, really worried. If James keeps this up, he might...he might just end up committing suicide. I'm not Erin, but...I found myself caring about James the moment I met him. And when I was holding him, the tears in his eyes; he had been scared, he doesn't really want to die.'

"You're not me, Kendall, but that's just what he **needs**. I hurt him, leaving him like I did. Even if it had not been my intention to do so, to leave him without much of a fight...I had hurt him. I had **hurt** the only person I love, and little by little my memory is taking away his life. The life he **deserves** to have and enjoy. I can't tell you much about his past, that would be betraying his trust but he didn't have it easy. He has lost so much, suffered so much….a beautiful soul like that, so precious and pure deserves everything good this sick world still has, that it can give. You can help him walk away from this pain poisoning him from the inside out. I will help you, I swear upon my grave I will help all I can but please...this is all I want: the best for my James."

Kendall contemplated this for five good, long minutes. Erin smiled though when he saw a sharp nod leave the dirty blond, followed by a determined glimmer in his vibrant bottle green eyes.

"Okay, I'll do it."

'James, know that I'm not Erin. I'm not Erin, but I won't hurt you either. I promise, I won't hurt you. You just have to **let me in**. I'm not him.'

_**-Page Break-**_

James slumped to the floor, back pressed against the bedroom door. His head ducked, shadows hiding most of his face while he clutched a big, thick book tight to his chest. It was bound in white leather, with a black ribbon for a bookmark.

It was his sketchbook. He had one, too.

He pressed hard against his ribs, tears leaving his closed eyes. His shoulders weren't shaking, Erin's trench coat wrapped around his body. The way it was now though, resembled more a blanket protecting a sad, scared child from a thunderstorm. James's nose brushed the front cover as he softly cried into his folded arms, lower lip between his teeth.

'H-he's not him…he's not him, but can I really trust him? Can I?'

The brunet lifted his head to see his reflection in the mirror: sad, in pain, lonely and confused. Big, puffy, angry red eyes. A look of loss, body in a tight ball.

For a minute, as lightening flashed outside, he saw Erin. It had lasted for a second; when lightening went by a second time though, instead of Erin...he saw Kendall.

Kendall Knight.

Dirty blond hair in a buzz cut. Bottle green eyes framed by thick, caterpillar-like eyebrows. No dark, curly hair or startling bluish-green eyes.

Kendall wasn't Erin. He wasn't him...but can James...?

He can never love again...can he?

'Y-you're not him...you're not him, but...'

"Deep down...I'm so sick of being on my own."

* * *

><p>Hey everyone! Did you miss us? We sure missed the lot of you, even if it has only been a day! Wow, so much has happened in this chapter: Erin and Kendall teaming up, James admitting that self-isolation isn't healthy for him, and that something must be done! Just how to go about this, though? What can Erin and Kendall do to reach our dear brunet? Will they tell him about the connection between the three? Will James show this vulnerable side to Kendall now, or will he continue to hide away his inner turmoil? And are you guys liking the story so far? Please let us know, everything you're feeling, and we'll see what happens in the next magic act! :D Thank you everyone for supporting; reviews, follows and favorites are most appreciated, we love you all and hoped you enjoy this chapter! See you all later, love Raven! Oh, and before we forget...pay EXTRA attention to Erin's words in this; don't they seem a little familiar? That's all we have to say folks, again thank you for the support we really do appreciate it and again, stay beautiful and lovely and darling! :D <strong>Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D<strong>


	13. The Promise

"_I can't believe we're doing this." James whispered with an impish grin, sighing in content at the long, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders._

_A pair of soft, pale lips grazed his right ear, causing a fiery blush to bloom across his cheeks. His heart began to pound rather fast, every pore tingling; he liked the rapid pounding though, the shocks of electricity taking hops across his hands, wrists, ankles and legs._

_He liked this sensation of being __**weightless**__, cloud nine. Big, purple, soft hops of cloud nine._

"_Is it really bad luck to see the blushing groom before the wedding?" Erin asked, his alluring British accent thicker than normal due to amusement, startling blue-green eyes bluer than usual. His strong chin met James's right shoulder, rich minty breath teasing the skin of the younger's swan neck._

"_If it really is bad luck, then you broke a rule." The brunet pointed out with a wink. Erin laughed, a deep baritone sound rumbling free from within his chest._

"_I don't always follow rules, love." The older man responded with a lazy eye-roll, both relaxing into the other._

_They were hiding away in the rose garden, curled up under one of the tall, proud arches. The splashes of pink, yellow and white stood out well against the purplish-blue sky, big, puffy white clouds framing a flaming orange-red sun. It was pretty early in the morning, seven to be exact._

_The wedding wasn't to take place until noon, meaning there was still plenty of time to get last-minute twists all smoothed out. That, however, would prove difficult to accomplish without the grooms in check._

_Erin was told he wasn't allowed to see James before the wedding. He had spent last night at a hotel, with John and Nicholas as company; they were his best men after all, damn the tradition of only one. James had stayed at the Masters mansion, under the watchful eyes of Diane, Abby and his mother Brooke. They made sure that the married couple to-be wouldn't be able to sneak phone calls or texts throughout the night; Erin wasn't allowed to see his beautiful angel until everything was set and ready._

_But of course the two weren't really ones for rules._

_So they both had snuck out to meet in the backyard, in the lovely rose garden Erin has raised over the years. Yes they were ignoring several traditions "set in stone" but really now, who could blame them? It was their wedding day; in a few hours, they would be husbands in front of the eyes of The Lord._

_After waiting for so long, their opportunity to be happy together was close at hand._

_After years of being so close yet so far apart at the same time, this was the day._

_This was __**their**_ _day._

"_I missed you." James admitted into Erin's baggy t-shirt, hugging him around the waist. The lean, firm touch against his cheek comforted the brunet, who had grown so use to having the older man beside him almost every night. They never crossed __**that**_ _line, you know the line that some very, very, **very** lust-driven do; every night was spent in soft laughter, in soothing serenity._

_Hugging, exchanging chaste kisses in the dark, talking about whatever that came to mind and listening to the other's breathing._

_Yes, soothing serenity. A world, no a place...somewhere only they knew._

_A somewhere they created together._

"_Why didn't you tell me you were planning on dying your hair for our wedding?" James asked out of the blue, gently raking his fingers through Erin's now dark brown, almost black, hair. It was curly now too, nothing like the straight, natural ginger the brunet remembered meeting him as._

_A shy look crossed the older man's face at this, a slight smile on his pale, thin lips. "Does it not do me justice...?"_

"_Oh it does more than justice. Bloody hell, love, you look...wow! I don't understand how every hair color just clicks with you: ginger, dark blond and now dark, dark brown? Love, do you know how many wish that was the case for them? You're amazing, sweetheart. How do you do it, hmmm?" James asked with a grin, pressing a kiss to the hollow in Erin's throat._

_Another deep rumble from within the other's chest. Erin was laughing again, insecurity about his latest change gone. "My damn curiosity gets the better of me, I'm afraid. I wanted to look different, fresh for this special day."_

"_Wanted to knock your soon to-be husband off his feet?"_

"_For our wedding, yes but also...for your birthday. Today is a special day, love. A **very** special day; it's not just the day we get married, but the day you were __**born**__. The day you came into this world eighteen years ago; the day the skies turned green with envy; the day the sun gave off a bittersweet smile, because something...__**someone**_ _held a brighter shine; the day my soul, without being consciously aware of it at first, began to defrost under the touch of the moon. This day, this beautiful day...the day you were born just makes me __**smile.**_ _It makes me smile, laugh...__be** proud**_ _of the choice I made: to wait, to wait for you. I've waited so many years for you, and without a doubt in my mind I would do it again. I would wait a thousand more years for you, love. For you, I'd do anything…" Erin admitted, tilting his head slightly so that their eyes locked again._

_James had begun to tear up at the other's words, the small rivers now pouring down his thin, warm cheeks. He threw his arms around the older man's swan neck, wrapping his legs around Erin's waist at the same time. He took a shuddering breath and pulled away so that his lips met Erin's softly in a light, warm kiss._

_Erin fell onto his back, eyes closed like the brunet's as they let their fingers interlock, legs tangle and body heat mesh together. A heavy blush graced James's cheeks, his tears running down Erin's face. The older man softly broke the kiss and unbuttoned the buttons of James's blue polo. He pressed a kiss to the younger's chest, to the skin right above his pounding heart; he nuzzled the praised flesh with the tip of his nose, breathing in James's scent with a smile before a sigh left him. James's face went from a beetroot to a tomato, surprisingly that was possible in his already flustered state, and a soft gasp left him at the brush of lips against his skin._

"_The most beautiful sound...I've ever heard, and I promise to always cherish it. Every second, every minute of every day; a special place, only for you, in my heart. James Dylan Diamond, I ask this of you again: will you do me the pleasure, the __**honor**_ _to stand by your side as your husband? To hold you dear, to protect you and wipe your tears away, to be the one who explores the world with you? Will you do me the honor of simply being __**with **__you, to let your kind heart, your gentle soul and comforting touch heal me from the pains of my past? Will you marry me?"_

_James nodded, too overwhelmed to verbally give his response. Erin's eyes were wet too, foggy and wet but his tears didn't fall._

_He willed his vision to remain clear. He didn't want to lose sight of that beautiful smile._

_He didn't want to lose the other's touch, the feel of the other's kiss, the warm of the other's embrace. In these arms...Erin wanted to wake up to in these arms every day._

_James has waited for Erin, Erin has waited for James. Their hearts tied, one._

"_And just like that, you were my everything…"_

* * *

><p>Yeah, it's short but this dreamflashback is important! Not only is James experiencing it, but through Erin Kendall is too! Just how will this be useful to him? What's the point of reliving these memories, because more are to come, if James seems to suffer with them? Stay tuned to find out! :D Thank you everyone for supporting us; reviews, follows and favorites are most appreciated, we love you all and hoped you enjoy this chapter! See you all later, love Raven! Really, that's all we have to say folks, but again thank you for the support we really do appreciate it and again, stay beautiful and lovely and darling! Remember to tell us what you like, dislike, etc.! We want to make this story the best it can be for YOU ALL! :D **Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that include the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D**


	14. A Thousand Years

_James softly moaned as Erin's lips gently caressed the warm skin of his neck. Large, crystal tears filled his big hazel-green eyes; they weren't tears of pain, not necessarily. They were tears of pure, unadulterated __**bliss**__. He reached out with both hands and tangled them in the thick, luscious curls, whimpering._

_Hot sweat lined Erin's right brow, chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. His lips soon suckled at the skin under James's strong chin, one hand tangled with James's while the other drew patterns on the younger's collarbone._

"_E-...Erin…" The brunet whispered, shakily. Said British devil paused in his administrations, startling blue-green eyes darker than normal._

"_Am I hurting you?" Even with how low his voice had fallen, he didn't sound drunk off the moment. His tone was worried, soft and tender._

_Lust may have colored his eyes, but passion and warmth reigned his heart._

_His once ice cold heart._

_James pressed the back of his free hand to his mouth, cheeks flushed a lovely strawberry pink. He shook his head slowly, gently as he reached out and curled his thin, soft caramel-colored fingers against Erin's thin, right cheek._

"_No, you're not."_

"_Then why the tears, love? Shhh, please don't cry...the last thing I want is to ruin your special day." Erin's facial expression softened as he carefully lifted the younger male into his lap._

_Even though James had more muscle built than Erin, who was tall and lean like a runner, there was no doubt the older man was stronger than he looked._

"_Don't you mean __**our**_ _special day? I'm not getting married alone, you know", James pointed out with a roll of his eyes. Erin grinned, catching on to the sarcastic rue of the brunet's words, and pressed a kiss to James's nose._

"_Yes, it __**is **__our special day...but you're the blushing groom today, love. I want this day to be spectacular, wonderful, the wedding of your dreams. I will hate myself for the rest of my life if I ruined today for you…"_

_James took a big, big breath before he tucked at the hem of the other's baggy t-shirt. "I want to feel you, Erin."_

"_James...I mean, do you reall-"_

"_I know you want us to wait, and we will. I'm not saying to break another rule; I know our first time tonight will be special, but...I want to feel you. Please let me feel you, I don't think I can wait until tonight. Please." The younger begged with a blink of his soulful eyes, pressing his face into Erin's neck._

_The older man swallowed hard, throat dry. "James...I, I-"_

"_And this will be the wedding of my dreams. If I'm marrying __**you**__, then it is my dream. It will be the wedding of my dreams if it's you waiting for me at the altar", the brunet added with a smile, breathing in the warm, musky scent clinging to the older man._

_He smelled of fresh rainwater. They've been in the rose garden for a good two hours now; they won't get a chance to be alone like this until __**all**_ _the last-minute preparations for the wedding were done, until the ceremony was over and the guests were gone._

_As much as James was looking forward to the ceremony, to the faces of loved ones and proclaiming his love for Erin in his own written vows, nothing tickled (and scared) him more than the thought of being with Erin not as his boyfriend but as his __**husband**__. _

'_A new page in the book, a new chapter in my life.' He thought with a fluttery feeling in his stomach._

_His train of thought was lost at Erin's voice echoing in his ears, his vision clearing up so that he met the older man's face again._

"_Is that what you **want**?" Erin asked, emphasizing the last word._

"_Yes."_

_**-Page Break-**_

_The two lovers were curled up against the other._

_Erin's t-shirt was on the soft, green grass under their heads. So was James's polo. Said brunet's head was resting on the older's strong, warm chest, one hand tracing muscles rippling under the smooth skin. The other was draped loosely across Erin's sharp right hip. The British devil had an arm wrapped protectively, firmly around James's shoulder, the free hand not stroking up and down his arm meshed with James's fingers. Their legs were curled up under them, bent at comfortable angles and tangled._

_Erin's eyes fell to James's resting form. James, feeling a gaze of complete __**adoration **__dancing for him, met those deep, beautiful eyes. Their heads, as if by magnets, came closer together until their lips met once more in a soft, passionate kiss._

_Who knows how long it had been until they pulled away, breathless and faces matching in color._

"_I love you." James managed to choke out, burying his face into Erin's neck. He felt the older man's lips meet his forehead, hold tightening._

"_And you are my everything."_

_**-Page Break-**_

"_I swear, you two are a handful!" Abby exclaimed, hands on her hips and cheeks a fiery red._

_The two husbands to-be looked embarrassed as the head maid fussed over them. Well James was really the one who looked embarrassed, while Erin only rolled his eyes._

"_Abby love, drop the act please. We know you're not really upset; you saw this coming." He pointed out with a grin, hugging the brunet close to him and resting his right cheek on the top of his head._

_James was at a loss for words, nibbling on his lower lip. "W-we...I, umm I-", but the cat-like eyed woman raised her left hand up, demanding silence._

"_Never mind, never mind then...James, go to John and Nicholas's room. Brooke and I will get you ready; and __**you**__, Erin Benedict William Masters, go to your room. You two will not have further contact until the __**ceremony **__begins. Understand?"_

_Even sweet, loving and motherly Abby could be scary when deeply annoyed._

"_Y-yes ma'am!" James stuttered out, a hand pressed to his mouth. Erin only scoffed, looking bored now._

"_Now Abby, why must you ruin our fun? We weren't breaking any rules."_

"_You __**weren't**_ _breaking any rules? You saw the groom before the wedding, y-you two snuck off like Romeo and Juliet, two wild teenagers! Oh I don't mean any offense, James deary, but Erin you have always been a curious child am I right? Wait...love, your hair! Oh it suits you, really it does!_

_Erin let out a chuckle, twirling a soft, dark brown, almost black, curl around his index finger. "Thank you, now you see that I wasn't __**really**_ _committing a misdeed, love? I just wanted to surprise my dear angel here, unlike him I need to have plenty of time to look decent at best. His beauty never pales; there in the morning, there in the evening his beauty, pure and soft, graces the world with a gentle touch."_

_Abby blushed at this, just as much as James did surprisingly, but soon she found her composure and was glaring bloody daggers at the pair._

"_Inside. Both of you. Now."_

* * *

><p>Hey everyone! Okay, we have an announcement to make: instead of the next chapter being another flashbackcontinuation of a dream, the next one will have more of Kendall trying to reach James, through Erin, and James's morning. Let's the reactions of both shall we, and see if this pushes them closer together or farther apart. This is important though, because now Erin and James's memories are **Kendall's.** The tie has been forged, it has been made and now to what will it lead? Well, we'll find out...next time! ;) Thank you everyone for supporting us; reviews, follows and favorites are most appreciated, we love you all and hoped you enjoy this chapter! See you all later, love Raven! Really, that's all we have to say folks, but again thank you for the support we really do appreciate it and again, stay beautiful and lovely and darling! Remember to tell us what you like, dislike, etc.! We want to make this story the best it can be for YOU ALL! :D **Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that include the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D**


	15. I'm not Him (Erin)

James fell like a ton of bricks to the hard, dead grass. He clutched at his right cheek, a lone tear running down his face. His free hand was pressed to his stomach, sharp breaths escaping his now bruised lips.

"You still mourning the bastard's death? Wow James, you really are pathetic." The pampered blond sneered as he towered over the brunet's hunched over form.

James didn't say a word in retaliation. His hair drooped downwards over his deep, hard grayish-blue eyes. He flinched when he felt something warm, wet and smelling of rust slip between his thin, caramel-colored fingers: blood.

He was bleeding. He was bleeding, bleeding, bleeding.

Again. He was bleeding, **again**. He was bleeding again, at the hands of Jett Stetson.

'Just like old times, when I'd take every slap, punch and kick in silence. Back when I was stupid and so...so **submissive**.' The pretty boy glowered at himself, finally finding the inner strength to lift his head.

Only to receive another slap to the face.

"Gah!" This time James's head collided with the tombstone he had previously been praying over. The rock was smooth and dark, black with a white speckled pattern to it. The tombstone had fresh vases of white roses at its feet, the grass not as dead.

It read the name William Rosewood.

To the unknowing passenger by, it would the grave of a stranger. The grave of possibly a father, brother, uncle or little boy even.

But James, James knew the truth. He knew the truth: this was **Erin's** grave, his plot in the earth. No one can find out that the British author was dead, that he has left the world so prematurely. His death had to be kept to the secret, to the point in which he couldn't sleep in peace by his own **name**.

He had to be put away in nicely carved, smooth skinned box...under a made-up name. A name he had once considered giving to one of his characters.

...Disturbingly enough, Erin's character William Rosewood had died in a car accident, at the age of thirty-eight.

Maybe Erin had been a fortune-teller or Oracle.

Because he had described his own **death** through a fictional soul he had made up back when he was fourteen.

"Are you ever going to get over him? Jesus Christ really, he was fucking **fourteen** years older than you! You slept with a grandpa, Diamond! You let some old asshole fuck you; you're sick in the head, **he** was sick in the head!"

"Don't you dare talk about him that way! Like hell you knew him, he was the one who saved me from **you**! Fuck you, Stetson, when we were together you'd **beat** me!" James managed to choke out, wiping the blood off his lips and making to get to his feet.

Only to be struck down, yet again, to the ground. This time though, this time Jett had slammed his foot down, hard, into the pretty boy's stomach.

"Agh!"

"Haha, please! So what if I did, so what if I did huh? It didn't make you stronger now didn't it, you're still the weak, stupid jackass I met at fifteen! You were nothing back then, and you're nothing now, James. Your 'sweet, loving' **child molester **is dead now! He's dead, you hear me?! Dead, dead, dead! And good riddance too, as if we need another one of those fuckers in the world! You know I never liked Erin, not one damn bit. So snooty, stuck-up, an uptight ass. It's good in the end he was put down like the **mutt** he was. Hey it was either me or him, Jamie honey; looks like life liked me better...ha!"

"SHUT UP!" James screamed at the top of his lungs, biting the inside of his cheek. Jett's alluring golden-brown eyes went pitch black in anger, beautiful face in a hideous scowl.

"What did you say, whore?! What did you say huh, what did you say?! Say it, Say it again you whore!" The blond demanded as he fisted a hand into the front of James's shirt. The brunet coughed but said nothing in response, his silence sending Jett's temper flying.

"I SAID TO SAY IT AGAIN, YOU FUCKING WHORE!" Jett's free hand cut through the air again as he raised it to punch James. Said pretty boy's eyes grew wide before he snapped them shut tightly once more, to better prepare himself for the next blow.

"I GAVE YOU AN ORDER, ASSHOLE!"

"No…!"

_**-Page Break-**_

**Slap!**

'W-what the…?'

James's eyes snapped wide open as he landed on the ground again, though not by a punch.

Instead, he landed quite gently, a hand once again over his mouth as he leaned against the gravestone. The vases of roses had tipped over and spilled, their fragrance filling James's nose.

His expression read surprise, extreme surprise.

Because...Kendall Knight was standing over him, whole body was a shield while one of his thin, pale hands gripped Jett's wrist in an iron-hold.

The dirty blond's back was to him, so James couldn't see...that Kendall's eyes weren't a vibrant bottle green, their **usual** eye color.

They were a startling blue-green, bluer than normal a clear sign that he was angry. No correction, **they** were angry.

Because it wasn't just Kendall holding Jett back and putting him in his place. It was Kendall and **Erin**; sharing his memories with him, his past life has strengthened the bond between them.

Now, Erin could actually **live** inside Kendall. Two spirits, two souls sharing the same **physical** body.

Erin could actually possess Kendall's physical body, and control his thought process.

"Don't you ever touch him again, **Jett**." Kendall's lips spat the other blond's name out as if it was poison, bad touching and just downright degrading to say. His voice was deeper though, more pronounced than his usual pitch.

"W-who the hell are you?!" Jett exclaimed, his temper's press leaving to be replaced with a mixture of shock and fear. Kendall's lips twisted upwards in a devious smirk, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Doesn't matter who I am, what does matter is that if you **try** to hurt him again we're going to have a problem. Got that hotshot, or are am I going to have to spell it out for you? I have no issue with breaking your nose to teach you a very valuable lesson: don't bully people." With that Kendall let go of Jett, only to twirl the other around like a top and nail a kick to his ass.

Kind of like Bucky did when he stuck up for Steve…

Jett stumbled and nearly crashed into a tree before he sprinted from the graveyard, vanishing into his car. Kendall watched him go, not bothering to follow; his eyes soon returned to normal, the vibrant green overpowering the almost electric blue. He blinked his eyes once, twice, taking a deep breath before he turned to James.

The brunet was still on the ground, the roses scattered around him. He had tears leaving his big, wide, expressive eyes; his right cheek was a flaming red, a hand-shaped bruise taking form, drying blood on his chin. He was shaking, on his knees with one hand clutching the front of his (**Erin's**) trenchcoat.

He looked so scared, yet so...so **grateful**.

Kendall's expression softened as he carefully, slowly approached the older male and held out his hand. His lips were in a sweet, comforting smile, bottle green eyes alight with warmth.

"Hey, it's okay. Shhh, Jamie...everything is okay now. You're alright now, you're alright…"

_**-Page Break-**_

"_Hey, it's okay. Shhh, Jamie...everything is okay now. You're alright now, you're alright…"_

_**-Page Break-**_

'T-those words...Erin said them to me once. After he...after h-he found out Jett was beating me.'

Those words...those same, exact, down to the T words…

James snapped out of his stupor when Kendall crouched down in front of him, hand still outstretched though this time the other was on his left shoulder.

"Can you hear me, Jamie? Hey...it's okay, I'm right here. He won't hurt you again, Jamie, I promise. He won't do it again, I promise..."

_**-Page Break-**_

"_Can you hear me, Jamie? Hey...it's okay, I'm right here. He won't hurt you again, Jamie, I promise. He won't do it again, I promise..."_

_**-Page Break-**_

'Those words…!'

**_-Page Break-_**

'James, I'm right here. I won't let anyone hurt you, love. I'm here, I'm here for you.'

'James, please let me help you. Please...'

* * *

><p>Hey, hey, hey! We can't say much but...enjoy! Thank you everyone for supporting us; reviews, follows and favorites are most appreciated, we love you all and hoped you enjoy this chapter! See you all later, love Raven! Really, that's all we have to say folks, but again thank you for the support we really do appreciate it and again, stay beautiful and lovely and darling! Remember to tell us what you like, dislike, etc.! We want to make this story the best it can be for YOU ALL! :D <strong>Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that include the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D<strong>


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